Lifting his head, Royce stared down into her slumberous blue eyes, and Jenny saw the look of pure satisfaction mingled with puzzlement on his face— “Why is it when you yield, I feel like the one who has been conquered?” Jenny flinched and turned her back on him, her slim shoulders rigid. “ ’Twas no more than a minor skirmish I yielded, your grace; the war has yet to be fought.”
