Christmas in His Royal Bed / Rossellini's Revenge Affair. Yvonne Lindsay

that before the night is through.” His voice was low and mesmerizing, washing over her.

      Dropping his hand from her waist, he smiled, gave a small bow and then turned and walked away, as though he hadn’t just set every nerve ending in her body on high alert.

      She watched him go, trying to regain control of her senses. And control of her limbs, which seemed incapable of movement, even as she struggled to get her brain to send the correct signals.

      It wasn’t until she noticed people beginning to stare that she shook off whatever spell had overtaken her, and was able to take step after measured step to the refreshment table. She poured herself a glass of punch and drank it down in nearly a single gulp.

      This was bad, so very bad. He was wearing her down, eroding the last of her defenses.

      She was very much afraid that she wouldn’t be able to evade him for much longer.