’ ‘You didn’t answer me then.’ ‘And from that you should have learned a lesson, girl.’ Rana set a scowl on her face as she opened the wate... jug and had a swallow of the cool fresh water. It was sweet mercy to her dry pink lips. The Moor fiddled with the straps of his saddle a moment and she watched him, still very much in the dark about him and his origins. It had been late, well past sunset when she’d first felt his boot graze her hip, jarring her from a dreamless sleep. His hand had gripped. Later that day, Rod was in the office not long before the end of his shift, finishing up the paperwork on the crash. ‘I wonder…’ he thought, as he put the finishing touches on the diagram of the crash. ‘I wonder what Mrs. Whitman would do if I called her.’ He got Rhonda Whitman’s phone number from the crash report and dialled it. The phone rang, and was picked up after three rings. ‘Hello?’ the soft, smooth voice that had stirred Rod earlier in the day said. ‘Is this Mrs. Rhonda Whitman?’ Rod. More

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