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“Directing his smile to the widow, Martin bowed slightly, and it was not until his gaze lifted and he actually met her deep green eyes behind thick gold spectacles that he sensed a familiarity. No, it was more than that. For some strange reason, those green eyes were like a punch to his gut. But why? Who was she? A former conquest he'd carelessly cast aside? No, that wasn't it. Then suddenly, he remembered. But no, it couldn't be. Could it? Good God, it was. The wealthy prize widow was, of all people, Miss Evelyn Foster from his wildest days at Eton! His first impulse was to laugh out loud at the absurdity of the coincidence, but naturally, he preserved his composure. He was having a hard time speaking, however, because he had not expected to meet a woman he had known once before, and certainly not the prudish young girl who had constantly ignored him. The same girl who had snuck into his dormitory and caused him to be suspended, then had the sanctimonious nerve to tell him that he needed to put himself on the straight and narrow.” — Julianne MacLean