Page 27 of The Betrothal

I looked up at him.

“One, who are you? Two, where are the boys? And three, am I correct, given the cursing, that we have an injured knee? Answers in any order.”

I stood still like a deer in headlights.

“Killer?”

“Oh. Right. Alex and Ben are at the manor?” I posed it as a question because I didn’t know if he knew what that was. “And they’re only scrapes.”

He stared expectantly.

“No name?”

I frowned. Did I need to keep my name a secret?

“Killer it is then.”

“Isabelle,” I answered immediately. “My name is Isabelle.”

Nice work, Izzy.

“Sorry, but I think you’ll find it’s Killer now.”

He indicated for me to return to the cottage, frowning gently when I didn’t move ahead of him, he then crossed to me and spun me before he steered me by the shoulders back along the path and inside.

“You aren’t really dressed for a blizzard.”

“Hmm?”

The heat of the house engulfed me and I dropped to remove my boots, storing them away in the cupboard, emerging to a puzzled look on the stranger’s face. He blinked, shaking his head, then offered his hand.

“Sebastian. Seb, Bastian. Any abbreviation works.”

“Hi, Sebastian.” I took the offered hand. It was warm from the thick gloves he had removed moments before, whereas mine was ice cold.

Sebastian shuffled around me, depositing his boots into the boot room and emerging without the huge coat. He still wore heavy snow trousers but on top he had an undershirt with long black sleeves covering toned arms.

He was like Ben and Alex in that. Tall, toned, and as he removed his hat and ruffled his dark brown hair, I realised, devastatingly attractive.

What was in the water around here?

“Shall we take a look at those knees?” His dimples were back.

“Um, no?” I frowned, withdrawing deeper into the kitchen.

He laughed, ruffling his hair once more.

“I hear how that sounded, sorry.” He didn’t look sorry. “I’m a doctor.”

My eyebrows hit my hairline.

“Knees?” he pressed.

“They’re fine.”

He looked unconvinced.

“I’m wearing leggings, it’s fine.”