![]() ![]() ![]() So why did Caleb’s gaze feel so hot? “ I’m not like them.” Where had that come from? Wherever it was, he did not hesitate to reply. In 1834, she’d been the reason London dressmakers couldn’t keep peacock feathers on the shelf! She routinely had men and women salivating over her! She could have her pick of admirers! Had had her pick of them! She could certainly handle being looked at. ![]() And by remarkable people! She’d had poetry composed for her! Some of it had been bearable! She’d been an artist’s muse! The fact that he’d been an absolute ass was irrelevant. She’d spent the last decade being looked at. She waited, aware that he was staring at her, no doubt having found a bit of kohl or something that she’d missed. ![]()
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