PROLOGUE

      AS THE soft light of dawn crept into the room the young man looked down on the girl, asleep beside him, her long blonde hair cascading across the pillow, her face soft and sweet. He kissed her lips gently and she stirred, murmuring, ‘Marcel.’

      ‘Shh,’ he said. ‘I just want to tell you—’

      ‘Mmm?’

      ‘—lots of things. Some of them I can’t say when you’re awake. When I look at you I’m struck dumb. I can’t even find the words to tell you how lovely you are—but then, you already know that.’

      He drew the sheet back to reveal her glorious form, both slender and voluptuous.

      ‘There are plenty of people to praise your beauty, those photographers, and so many other men who’d take you from me if they could. But you don’t let them. Bless you, my darling, my sweet Cassie.’

      Without