Keara locked her gaze on the stranger, drawn by his green eyes that looked so much like her own. She had never seen green eyes on anyone else, but knew what they meant. Remembered what her grandmother had told her about them.
“Green eyes are the mark of evil, girl,” the old woman liked to say. “Be wary of them.”
The wind whipped the stranger’s hair about his face. A chiseled jaw topped by firm lips that whitened around the edges and a long straight nose comprised a face tightened in anger. His compelling eyes bored into hers.
She couldn’t stop staring at those eyes, all the while his fingers continued their steady pattern against her mark, sending sensuous feelings coursing through her veins.
A stranger or Lord Simon? The man whose touch sent zingers of pleasure throughout her body, or the possibly crazy, but socially acceptable man who might have her best interest in mind. Did she actually think that?
There was no choice. It took two tries to get the words out of her dry mouth.
“I’ll take you.” She lifted her chin toward the stranger and said a silent prayer he would spare her life.