"I know you would never have mistaken me for him," he snarled, accusatory and angry and trying to ignore the painful throb of his arm and foot. "I'm supposed to know you? You are supposed to know me!"

The words came tumbling out unchecked; the outrage in his expression didn't fade when he turned away to shrug out of his coat, wincing when the sleeve dragged over the wound, then pulled back the shirtsleeve to inspect it. Let her sit there and stew about what he'd said. He didn't think he could bear it if she tried to see to his injury, herself.

"Kidnapping. I shouldn't have to kidnap you. You've never -" He shot her an ugly scowl. "Never. Denied me. I could accept being dismissed so easily from your mind if you weren't wearing a ring I put on your finger."