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254 pages, Paperback
First published November 7, 2008

Words were not possible. “That’s all.” And his footsteps began sounding a retreat.
Persephone turned her head away from the lump that was Adam’s sole offer of comfort: a coat he’d dumped on the seat beside her. “I want to go home,” Persephone whispered in agony to herself.
She laid her hand on the cheek he’d touched. It was the first time in a month that anyone, other than the stable hands who helped her mount, had intentionally touched her. She hadn’t realized until that moment how deeply she’d craved human contact, how much she’d missed the simple gesture of being touched.




She feared the wolves, which didn’t really make sense. But Persephone had found a way to deal with her fear. That showed a remarkable amount of intelligence, a character trait Adam valued highly. Persephone wasn’t exactly what he’d wanted in a wife, but she had her good points.
He felt confused and indecisive. He had no idea why he’d kissed his wife and no idea what he meant to do about it. Except keep his distance.
“You tell me to trust you, but I don’t know that I can. I don’t know anything about you, Adam. I have no idea what kind of man you are. And that . . . that frightens me.”
“Do not throw away this chance by making her guess at your feelings.”

