His voice-actually not just his voice but Devorlane Hawley himself-cut in on her. She strove to jerk her head up in order to make an exit, a sweeping one out of any door. His. Hers. Theirs. But he was faster, limp or not. In one bound he didn't just meet her at their shared door, he pinned her against it. The letter wasn't something she could hold onto, not with him trying to snatch hold of it, although she'd no intention of giving it up. Why should she? Besides shock had welded it to her palm. Fortunately it had not welded her tongue.
"What do you think?"
"Give me that." Devorlane Hawley tightened his grip and forced her wrist back against the door jamb. "You know that people who sneak into rooms, to sneak into drawers, to sneak letters that aren't addressed to them, seldom read any good of……
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