lOne
Victoria Wynne reached for the roll of plans on the
shelf behind her. Her sleek black hair， done in its usual
French braid for the office， shone with a rich sheen
beneath the artificial light of the drafting table. Sun
poured in the floor-to-ceiling windows behind her，
casting shadows over fine-boned features and dark
sapphire eyes. She was leggy with a willowy figure that
any woman would envy. Many had called her beauti-
ful in college， but she had rarely noticed. She had been
too busy taking her degree in landscape architecture
and， later， too determined to climb to the top of her
I profession， a goal that had been interrupted with
marriage to George Wynne.
T~e disaster， Cord Darcourte had called it when
Victoria s life had taken a new turn and she had be-
come a wife. Victoria didn t believe in doing things
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