It was her!
Grant Barrett, Earl of Wentford, felt as though he had strayed into a dream as he stood and stared across the ballroom at the woman he would marry.
He had never met her.
He had never spoken to her.
He did not even know her name.
Yet, he knew that it was ℎ𝑒𝑟.
Her and no other.
Grant had felt it as though a bolt of lightning had struck him hard in the chest, knocking the air from his lungs and pulling his focus from the world around him to settle on her.
Her alone.
It was her!
His heart beat fast against his ribs as his gaze trailed over her lovely features. Her eyes shone in a rare golden hue, complementing the soft waves of her hair despite the few unruly curls that had escaped down her temples. With a wave of her hand, she brushed them away. There was kindness in her gaze, something soft and tender, sweet and almost innocent. Yet, Grant smiled when he saw the determined set of her jaw as well as the hint of steel that came to her eyes as a group of haughty, young debutantes pushed past her with no regard for their surroundings.
With a slight scoff, his siren turned away, rolling her eyes in a way that made Grant’s heart pause in his chest.