A Whisper of Disgrace. Sharon Kendrick
fragile. He looked as if he meant business—and it wasn’t just the way he was dressed, in a dark and sombre suit, which emphasised his powerful physique. He looked as if he hadn’t shaved that day so that his dark jaw was faintly shadowed with stubble. It was a look which was essentially masculine and subtly modern, yet it didn’t match the expression in his black eyes. Because that was the antithesis of modern—it was darkly glittering and almost primitive.
She swallowed. ‘What do you want?’
‘A little courtesy might be a good place to start. I’d like to come in.’
To Rosa’s disbelief he didn’t bother waiting for her assent, just walked straight past her. ‘You can’t just barge in here like that!’ she protested.
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