Dress Rehearsal . . . Miss Augusta Carstairs was overcome with mortification every time she recalled her last encounter two years before with Major Edward MacKennoch. What had possessed her to so shamelessly try to induce him to kiss her, she couldn't exactly say -- except that he was the only gentleman who had not catered to her every whim. Thank heaven, she had matured since then. And yet even now, as she rehearsed her lines for the play being performed to benefit the War Effort, there was only one man's face in her mind as she shut her eyes, held out her arms, and recited with feeling: "Kiss me. Take me in your arms, if that is your will!"
Playing with Fire . . . Damn the chit! The last thing MacKennoch expected upon arriving home from the war was to stride into the parlour and find Miss Carstairs up to her old tricks. As if it wasn't enough that that lovely face of hers had haunted his nights these past two years. Kiss her, indeed. He'd do that and more. A gentleman could only take so much temptation, by God, and as he dragged her ruthlessly into his arms to do her bidding, he resolved to cure her once and for all of playing with the fire of a man’s passion!
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