He’d already proven himself to be a vulgar, mannerless brute. “Justin,” he said gruffly. “I beg your pardon?” “We’re engaged to be married, aren’t we? I see no reason why you must continue to call me Mr. Thornhill. My name is Justin. I give you leave to use it.” “Oh.” Her voice was faint. “What about you?” he pressed. “Or am I to address you as Miss Reynolds until we’ve solemnized our vows?” “If that’s what you’d prefer.” “I wouldn’t prefer it. I would dislike it intensely.” She took a quiet breath. “Well, in that case, I suppose you’d better call me Helena.”
