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and he reached up and gently touched the cheek that he’d just scrubbed. The warmth of his fingers soothed the chafed skin, and he was looking at her with such genuine concern and kindness that her throat tightened.
    “You know, you look beautiful,” he said honestly, “in spite of the egg.”
    His voice betrayed a kind of emotion that appeared to mystify even him. He seemed to be fighting some internal battle—and to be rapidly losing it. Winifred started to respond, but there was a discreet knock at the door. Quickly she withdrew from his embrace and self-consciously smoothed her hair. The secretary entered, carrying a coffee tray.
    “Your morning coffee, Mr. Howe. Would you like the paper?” The little man held up the
Times
.
    “No, thanks, Crocker. Just leave it by my desk.”
    His voice held a note of frustration as the secretary carefully placed his paper. Excusing herself, Winifred quickly took her leave. As she closed the door behind her, her heart was pounding, and she felt as if she’d had a narrow escape. Charles Howe was becoming entirely too much of a distraction.
    C HARLES TOSSED his paperwork onto the desk, unable to concentrate. Picking up his coffee, he walked toward the window and gazed down into the street below.
    The reporters were gone. At least the guard had been effective in removing them. His fingers tightenedon the cup as he thought of someone pelting Winifred with an egg. Yet instead of intimidating her, as they intended, they had only strengthened her resolve.
    A begrudging smile curved his lips. He was forced to admire her—the way she held her head high with dignity, even as she tried to remove the egg from her face. Something inside him broke at that, and within a few short moments, a surprising range of emotions flooded him: fury, that someone would do this to her; protectiveness; and an overwhelming need to kiss her, love her, take her into his arms, and erase all the ugliness.
    Winifred Appleton was an enchantress. It would take every ounce of his willpower to remain firm and refrain from physically seducing her. If he yielded to temptation, she would accuse him of not respecting her ambition and ideals. Besides, he had promised her that he would not make her uncomfortable working here, and he intended to keep that promise.
    Yet the egg incident only strengthened his resolve to see her abandon her crazy ambition. Some of the suffragettes were openly ridiculed, showered with vegetables, arrested, fined, and imprisoned. Even Miss Anthony had found herself behind bars when she attempted to vote. While most protesters stopped short of inflicting actual harm, the line had become very thin indeed.
    Somehow he had to make Winifred see that this path was not for her. He realized that he shouldn’t make her apprenticeship too attractive, for then she would never give up. She had settled in nicely over the last few weeks and was getting entirely too comfortable. And he had done nothing to discourage her; if anything, he had done quite the opposite. Maybe he had gone about this all wrong. Winifred, as a younglaw apprentice, was convinced that she had been sent to rescue the downtrodden masses from the inequities of the legal system. He had to expose her to the realities of the law, and show her that the downtrodden, far from being noble beings in need of help, were often the dregs of the earth. Wife beaters, thieves, drunkards, and murderers—these were the ranks that filled their docket. It was time Winifred knew about that.
    “C RIMINAL JUSTICE , crime statistics, the county trust …”
    Fighting a yawn, Winifred dutifully copied each folder, trying hard to stay awake. Yet she could not stop her mind from wandering. The tender scene she had shared with Charles yesterday morning, the way he had rushed to her defense like a knight in shining armor, and the look in his eyes filled with emotion … Winifred shook off these thoughts in alarm. What on earth was the matter with her? She would