“But – I do not love anyone,” Gisela cried.
And then his hand was under her chin tipping back her head so that he could look into her face.
“That is a lie,” he said gently. “Must you lie to me again and at this moment?”
“It’s not – it’s not a lie!” she stormed and then stopped because the very words were choked against her lips.
“Oh, you child,” he murmured softly. “Do you think that I am deceived, either by your pride or your pretence? You love me, Gisela. You loved me that night when I took you in my arms and kissed your lips for the first time. I thought then that nothing could have been more wonderful or more innocent. I was bewildered, bemused and utterly captivated by something I had never expected to find in the whole of my life – a woman in whom the fire of love seemed to sprin
