DefeatedbyLove by Samantha Kane Page A

remark.
    “I told you, Harry told me,” she said.
    “Well, Sir Barnabas is going to help us find Harry,” Daniel
told her, “so you’d better try to be nice to him.”
    “He hasn’t been back,” she said logically. “Why?”
    “Another question you shouldn’t ask,” Daniel replied in wry
tone. “Never ask why. There’s a very likely chance you don’t want to know the
answer, or someone doesn’t want to tell you.”
    Christy stuck out her tongue. “I still think there are too
many unasked questions in London,” she told him.
    “You are getting very saucy, miss,” Daniel said, shaking a
finger at her.
    There was a knock at the door. “There is Simon,” Daniel
said. “Just in time for dinner.” He waved Matheson off and went to get the door
himself. “You can ask him all your questions instead of me.”
    But when he opened the door it wasn’t Simon.
    “Hello, Daniel,” Harry said softly when Daniel just stood
there staring. “It’s been a very long time.”
    He was so tall. Taller than he’d been at nineteen. And
harder. The planes of his face were sharp and dangerous. He was so tan that the
lines around his one eye stood out in stark relief, as if he’d been squinting
against the sun. The patch over his right eye was brown leather, worn and
unfamiliar and a harsh reminder that he wasn’t the man Daniel had known. He was
someone else now. Someone who had left him and deserted Christy and disappeared
for months until they’d thought him dead. Daniel had grieved for him. He’d been
grieving for ten goddamn years.
    He didn’t think twice before he pulled back his fist and
punched Harry right in the face.
     
    Harry saw it coming and took the punch anyway. He deserved
it. In a perverse way he relished the sting of it as his head jerked back and
he stumbled on the step, grabbing the railing there for balance before he
tumbled onto his arse.
    Daniel just stood there staring at him wide-eyed and angry,
breathing heavily through his nose, his lips pursed. He was positively
gorgeous. Everything he’d been ten years ago and everything Harry had dreamed
he’d become. His punch proved he hadn’t lost an ounce of fight, either.
    “I suppose I’m lucky you haven’t got a knife,” he said,
wiping the blood off his lip. “I’ve seen how handy you are with those.”
    “I could still kill you with my bare hands,” Daniel said
coldly.
    Harry didn’t even hear the words, just the voice. It was
deeper than he’d remembered, but most of the words he’d said to Harry all those
years ago had been whispered in his ear. His inflection was the same, crisp and
educated and slightly contemptuous. At least, that’s how he’d talked to
everyone else. For Harry it had been different. He’d been softer for him, gentler
and sweeter and desperate.
    He didn’t look sweet now, that was for damn sure. Well, ten
years was a long time to make up your mind to win the heart of your true
love.
    “Get in here,” Daniel barked and backed away from the door.
    “Not exactly a warm welcome, but I’ll take it,” Harry said
with a grin. It hurt his split lip and he winced and pulled a ragged
handkerchief out of his pocket and pressed it against the cut.
    He stepped into the hallway and saw a rather pretty pregnant
woman standing in a doorway, staring at him anxiously. He stumbled. Not once,
not in all the years he’d been gone, had he considered Daniel might marry. He’d
married . Harry’s mind went blank as all his plans fell to pieces around
him.
    “Daniel?” she asked in a small voice.
    Harry looked between the two of them and Daniel walked over
to her side, cupping her elbow. “Come on,” he said, his voice still clipped.
“You might as well say hello. It’s what you wanted, isn’t it? Well, here he is.
Harry Ashbury in the flesh.” Daniel practically dragged her over and then they
both waited expectantly.
    What she wanted? What the hell did that mean? “How do you
do?” he asked slowly, dabbing his lip