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For five years, Nathaniel, Lord Sallinger, has tried not to remember how Eleanor Faversham fled in horror from his proposal of marriage, though the scars in his mirror remind him daily.
But when they meet again, Nathaniel finds he is as attracted as ever to the elusive society beauty, and is determined to punish her for it:
`You!' she managed, then gave a choking sound as she realised how badly she had given herself away. Years of training forced a polite smile onto her flushed face and a courtesy into her voice that she was far from feeling. But there was no disguising her breathlessness.
`What a pleasant surprise to see you again. How ... how do you do, Lord Sallinger?'
Seated on a magnificent black stallion, Lord Sallinger looked down at her with an unfamiliar mixture of hostility and icy politeness. His gloved hands barely bothered to pull on the reins, his powerful thighs controlling the animal with consummate ease. `I am well, Miss Faversham, thank you,' he replied, and jerked his head in what passed for a nod of recognition.
His mouth, which she did not want to remember pressed hotly against her throat, was a straight line of disapproval. It had been five years since she had rejected his offer of marriage. Could he really still hate her so much?