e tempest tearing through her chest, the vo

zing crimson with raw fury, the wet traces of fresh te

paces away stole whatev

uch aristocratic precision that the word *handsome* felt utterly inadequate. Keira had spent years steeped

ortless, haughty arrogance that seemed bred into his bones. His dark, deep-set eyes pinned her with a

She had never seen

ually spea

haze of shock. Her brows knitted in bewilderment as she lif

nded thin, caught between defensiveness and shee

ead, a dark eyebrow a

he patient floor, the name Camren Durham had echoed down the corridor in that impassioned, furious shout. Combined with the

ructor his nephew had upende

efiant flush painting her neck. When he finally spoke, his baritone was impeccably measured, smooth as polished slate, yet wrapped in

n's u

d in Keira's mind

color rushed from her face, leaving her complete

family. The man who held Camren's tr

ith her twenty-one-year-old student-and the boy's billionaire uncle

misunderstanding! I was... I was on the phone with my boy-my ex, Alexandre, and I was just speaking out of temper! It was a private matter, c

y watched her, his expression unrea

le around him-polishing their agendas or feigning composure. He couldn't remember the

g up her neck, the breathless rush of words, the fierce panic in her eyes-there wa

ds into his trouser pockets, the oppressive weight of his prese

d softened into something dry, measured, a

against the knot

pure instinct. She lowered her hands, drew her shoulders straight, and inclined her head with cris

a Hen

e behind her, catching the sharp planes of Augustin's face in pale, liquid amber. For a f

syllables rolling over his lips

threading through his otherwise cold voice, Keira couldn't tell-but hearing her name

or, Augustin tilted his head, his dark ey

Henson... ho

irst introduction was undeniabl