While Lydia related the story of her departure, Jacob had become agitated. Midway through, he had released her from their embrace to light a fire in the hearth. The warm glow heated her ice-cold fingers as she concluded the tale, then waited.
He rubbed his hands over his face, breathing rapidly while he appeared to struggle with fierce control over himself. Finally, he looked at her, his eyes a deep green with strong emotion. Her husband was two hundred pounds of angry male. Lydia blinked in consternation.
“I will kill him! I will dig him up from his grave and kill him all over again!”
“His grave? I swear he was breathing when I left!”
grave “You did not kill him—he was very much alive when I returned from war. But one thing at a time. I am so, so sorry. I am so sorry! I can’t believe
