CHAPTER 13

night until finally it began to affect his nose—"

"Things went from bad to worse," suggested Miss Taylor. "Yes. Things went from bad to worse until finally he had to give up his position."

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For a moment, the final rays of sunshine bathed Lily Winters' radiant face with a touch of romantic affection.

Her voice urged me forward, breathless as I listened—then the light faded, each beam departing with lingering regret like children leaving a favorite street at dusk.

The butler returned and whispered something near Max Caldwell's ear, prompting Max to frown, push back his chair, and leave without a word.

As if his departure sparked something within her, Lily leaned forward again, her voice warm and melodious.

"I love having you at my table, Sam. You remind me of a—a rose, an absolute rose. Don't you think so?" She turned to Casey Taylor for confirmation. "An absolute rose?"

This was not true. I wasn't remotely like a rose. Lily was simply improvising, but a stirring warmth emanated from her, as if her heart was trying to reach out through those

breathless, evocative words. Then she abruptly tossed her napkin on the table, excused herself, and went into the house.