Francesca stepped into the room, and both Brandon and Mrs. Carter froze in startled silence.

In a scene like this, anyone could guess there was a shared history between the two of them.

The evening wind was fierce and hot.

It blew through Brandon’s hair and stirred Mrs. Carter’s elegant gown, the silken hem brushing Francesca’s arm with a softness so exquisite it felt almost deliberate—cool, smooth, a whisper of luxury against the ...