Henceforth she would need to continue to hide that reaction from him.

Simple…was one thing that wasn’t going to be.

Variseys as a breed were difficult, but she’d been surrounded by them from the age of six, and had learned how to manage them. All except this Varisey…oh, this was not good. Unfortunately not one, but two deathbed promises bound her to her path.

She cleared her throat, tried hard to clear her head of the disconcerting distraction of her still jangling senses. “I didn’t expect you so early, but I’m glad you made such good time.” Head high, eyes locked on his face, she walked forward. “There’s a huge number of decisions to be made-”

He shifted, turning away, then restlessly turned back to her. “I daresay, but at present, I need to wash off the dust.” His eyes-dark, fathomless, his gaze impossibly sharp-scanned her face. “I take it you’re in charge?”

“Yes. And-”

He swung away, was off again, his long legs carrying him swiftly around the gallery. “I’ll come and find you in an hour.”

“Very well. But your room’s not that way.”

He halted. Once again stood facing away for the space of three heartbeats, then, slowly, he turned.

Again she felt the dark weight of his gaze, this time pinning her more definitely. This time, rather than converse over the yawning gap that once again separated them, a gap she now would have preferred to maintain, he walked, stalked, slowly back to her.

He kept walking until no more than a foot remained between them, which left him towering over her. Physical intimidation was second nature to male Variseys; they learned it from the cradle. She would have liked to say the ploy had no effect, and in truth it didn’t have the effect he intended. The effect was something quite other, and more intense and powerful than she’d ever dreamed. Inside she quaked, trembled; outwardly she held his gaze and calmly waited.