A scent that coloured her world two hundred years ago.
The scar still bisected his eyebrow, her free hand drifted up to trace it - muscle memory cutting through shock and disbelief.
Jerking his head away, the man scowled. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’
A scent that coloured her world two hundred years ago.
The scar still bisected his eyebrow, her free hand drifted up to trace it - muscle memory cutting through shock and disbelief.
Jerking his head away, the man scowled. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’