Chapter Thirteen
It several days later before Daphne saw McGill again. He was striding toward the chapel—her chapel, was how she thought of it now, although she hadn’t returned to it since the night they made love. She moved out quickly from the cottage, driven by the terrific tempest inside her that had been swirling about since his amazing declarations that amazing night. Emerson’s visit had only made the desire worsen. She had to see McGill now.
Breathless by the time she reached the chapel, she flung the door wide enough for it to bang back against the wall.
“Could I talk to you?” she called to him. He was sweeping the floor. She suspected that he had a reason to keep the place clean, although it didn’t seem as if he actually used it. Hearing the loud noise and her question, he st
