“Where is his house?” Devon asked, entirely casual, but with a sidelong glance at her that conveyed, I want to do a longitudinal study of your body. Beth swallowed dryly. “About half a mile west of the village.” “Half a mile? In these shoes?” Devon frowned down at his thick-soled boots, in which he’d tramped across much of America. “I lost my hat running for the whopper swan and am going to get terribly sunburned,” Beth said, even as twilight filled her vision with shadows.
