A Husband's Return
"Well, well…"
The tone was low, smooth, with a hint of amused warmth that immobilized every woman in the room in mid-breath.
"Looks like the party started without me."
The voice swelled out across the hall like the rush of an unexpected current. Heads snapped round, chairs creaked, hearts skipped.
And there, standing in the doorway, was the man they all loved.
Leon.
His own hair, raven-black and long, swept over his shoulders, catching momentary glints from the light of the chandelier. Golden eyes blazed with that same unerasable intensity—tempered only by the slightest smile pulling at his lips. His clothing was plain, nearly austere beside the women's silks and accoutrements, but no frippery could compare to the rough handsomeness carved into every angle of his face.
