...at least not to my knowledge. Although he is relatively fit, I have not seen him scrambling up trees and in and out of second story windows recently, nor have I known him to go creeping about in any type of disguise. He knows the difference between a diamond and an emerald, which admittedly has been helpful on occasion, and he has a vague understanding about the principles of a jewel's cut and clarity. But generally he finds the subject of jewelry much less interesting than, say, cars or boats, or how to mix the perfect dry martini.

As for his being able to fight his way out of dangerous situations and overwhelm any attackers, it is true that he does wrestle daily. However, his opponents are considerably younger and smaller than he is, and there is always much tickling and laughter involved. Of course he is clever and charming and passionate, which is all well and good, but I'm afraid I needed something a bit more than that to work with as I embarked upon this novel. My hero, Harrison Payne, Earl of Bryden, is tormented by dark secrets, coupled with the fear that he may be losing his mind. If my darling husband is hiding any dark secrets from his past, then he has been doing an extraordinary job of it all these years. As for fears of losing his mind, while he can be absent-minded on occasion, I do believe this is attributable to the fact that like most parents of young children, it seems we can never get enough sleep.

With virtually no first-hand expertise to draw upon in the jewel-thief area, I decided to turn to the creation of my heroine instead. Charlotte Kent, who was first introduced as a timid urchin with an injured leg in The Prisoner, has in this book grown into a quiet young woman who is extremely conscious of her limp. As it happens, this is something with which I have some limited experience. During one of my pregnancies I developed a painful instability in my hip, which eventually forced me to walk with a cane. It was frustrating how difficult the simplest of tasks became, beginning with just hobbling out of bed in the morning. Everywhere I went, it seemed that people were staring at me--which made me hopelessly self-conscious. Eventually, after the birth of my baby and months of physiotherapy, my hip healed and I was able to move with ease again. But I had gained a deep empathy for those who face physical challenges every day of their lives, and I have tried to express this through Charlotte.

They make an unusual duo, this handsome, confident, seductive jewel thief and the shy, awkward young spinster who manages to strip away his mask and discover the passionate man beneath. And yet, as in many relationships, each eventually learns a great deal from the other. In my own case, one of the things I believe my darling husband and I have learned during the years of our marriage is that love sometimes requires a little bit of gentle, harmless pretense. And so I have trudged after him through car showrooms feigning fascination as he points out the miniscule differences between one engine and another, while I'm secretly thinking: ultimately all engines just make the car go, don't they?

As for my darling husband, he, in true hero form, patiently walks beside me along the sparkling showcases of jewelry stores, pausing occasionally to look at whatever I point at, and valiantly pretending to be interested.