“Lydia.”
Her hand froze on the brass door handle. She would recognize that deep velvety voice anywhere. It made her heart leap with joy and her veins freeze in horror. Slowly, she turned around, praying her vivid imagination was playing tricks on her. Her eyes searched and found what she was afraid of: her husband, tall and painfully handsome, standing on the lowest step.
He looked different from the last time she had seen him. His shock of coppery hair stirred in the breeze, and his intense eyes, which changed hue from blue to green depending on his mood, were currently a deep shade of turquoise and fixed on her own. Her heart raced and her mouth went dry with apprehensive excitement while her eyes traveled over his freckled snub nose, wide cheekbones, firm mouth, and strong, triangular
