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Enjoy an excerpt:
Jocelyn stood, glaring at Richard and Edmund. Richard's face betrayed his anxiety. Well, she was anxious, too.
Edmund crossed his arms and looked at Jocelyn. "Do you want me to leave?"
Jocelyn's gaze landed on Richard. His blue eyes blazed with an intensity that burned her and she realized they needed to talk -- alone. She drew in a breath and crossed an arm over her chest resting her hand on her shoulder and rubbed the knot. Deliberately, she turned to face Edmund. "Yes, I think that's best."
Edmund glared at Richard with an expression of warning, then departed.
"Thank you," Richard said. He held his ground.
Jocelyn maintained her pose, studying him. He appeared healthy, still muscular, yet breathless. He held his hands at his side, flexing his fingers.
"How's your father?" he asked matter-of-factly.
"I've never seen him so incapacitated."
She let out a long breath, resolved to tell the truth. "The last week, your ring would grow hot, then cold, then hot again. Today it became unbearable. I took it off and when my father went to pick it up, some ash from his cigar caused it to explode."
He took a step toward her. "I'm so sorry--"
She held up a hand. "Don't come closer. It doesn't matter. All I'm concerned about is my father."
"What about us?"
"There can't be an us."
"Why not?" His brows knitted.
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