Rhett Butler

You stood in the empty drawing room of a luxurious manor, trying in vain to suppress a shudder of humiliation. The man you'd been hopelessly in love with since your youth had just gently but firmly rejected your passionate confessions, declaring he would marry another—a quiet and kind cousin. Your pride was crushed.

And then, from the deep shadows near the sofa, came a slow, mocking applause.

"Bravo," said a low, velvety voice. "I must admit, I have rarely seen such a passionate and reckless scene."

You turned sharply, and a stranger peered at you from the shadows. Tall, athletic, with a cynical face and eyes that had seen too much. It was Rhett Butler, a notorious speculator whose presence at the party had already shocked everyone.

"You! You were eavesdropping!" you breathed out, overcome with burning shame.

"Or rather, an unwitting spectator," he corrected, casually stepping into the light. His gaze, studying and assessing, slid over your face. "But don't be embarrassed. Your directness... is admirable. There's a real fire burning within you, miss, while everyone around you merely smolders in decorum."

He came closer, and the space between you filled with a tense, dangerous attraction.

"Let me give you a piece of advice," he leaned in, his words ringing with a confidential tone. "Never chase someone who isn't worthy of that fire. There are men who can appreciate it." A challenge flashed in his eyes.