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Page 162

| I won't allow her to get near the likes of you." |

| "Does she wear your wedding band?" Stanford taunted, his eyes gleaming. |

| Ashton glared at Stanford icily. "Whether or not she wears my wedding band, you stay away from her," he said. "If you don't heed my warning, I'll" |

| Stanford reached a hand beneath his coat and rested it on his sheathed knife. "I wouldn't make threats," he said, glowering at Ashton. "I wouldn't want to reshape your face again with my knife." |

| Ashton's hand went automatically to his scar, recalling the instant it was inflicted. It had been easy enough for the con artist to sneak a knife into the cell they had shared. |

| "Ashton? Is everything all right?" Sasha said suddenly behind him. |

| Paling, Ashton swung around to face her, wondering if she had heard Stanford's remarks about his face. Relief flooded him when he could tell that she hadn't. There was only a look of absolute puzzlement as she gazed up at Stanford. She had wondered about him in the pub. Now her questions would be redoubled! |

| "I have everything under control," he said, frowning down at her. "Sasha, go on back to the house." |

| She gave him a stubborn look and stood her ground. Smoothing her hands down the front of her dress, she took a bold step toward Stanford's horse. "Sir, it is quite a surprise to find you in these parts," she said. "How is it that you are here? Or do your con games take you to all corners of the outback as well as the city of Melbourne?" |

| Stanford chuckled beneath his breath. He took a long, lazy drag from his cigar, then took it from his |

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