He turned his head, looking again at Stella York's pale face.
He held her hand, silently tightening his grip.
The first time he saw this woman, he felt no stirrings of the heart; she seemed fragile, yet there was a stubbornness about her that made people want to conquer her.
A junior reporter, daring to track him repeatedly, block his path, trying to get first-hand information from him.
To track him, she even went so far as to disguise herself as a waiter, a nightclub Miss...
She thought she was well-disguised, but he never forgot a face. He'd remembered her from the very first time she attended an interview at the church and asked him for a photo.
Every time she appeared after that, he recognized her identity.
