’ ‘Not like you,’ She says, her hand flat on his chest, ‘ not so compliant…or handsome.’ He looks away, tense, but she pulls him back, her...fingers pressed against his jaw, their shoulders touching. ‘My father would be spinning in his grave,’ she laughed, her voice mellifluous like water running over pebbles. ‘Luckily, he was cremated.’ ‘Now, Miss Burghley, don’t be morbid, please,’ Edward feels himself blush, burning up under her touch, the thought of his late employer’s probable reaction. Her daring and confidence were as intoxicating as her accent. She really was a woman that followed her passions, throwing everything else to the wind.The scariest thought he'd contended with that day was that this revelation might end their relationship. Perhaps it was a foolish doubt, given how strong their commitment had grown, but it had entered his mind nonetheless.“The thing that made me run last night. They called it a 'kill-switch.' It's not likely, but I suppose it's possible there. More

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