There’s no way that the playboy Duke of Weldon truly sees me as some kind of treasure. More like a conquest, or a prize to be won. This is all part of some game he’s playing, a way of getting at Callum. “Treasure?” I scoff, taking a big step back from Rafe and the spell he’s casting with his words, his eyes, and the seeming sincerity in his voice. “I guess you’d know, wouldn’t you? Having pillaged your way through so many treasures. A different one every week over the years.”
