20d0a5a
|
He'd spent his life being a perfect gentleman. He'd never been a flirt. He'd never been a rogue. He hated being the center of attention, but by God, he wanted to be the center of her attention. He wanted to do the wrong thing, the bad thing. He wanted to pull her into his arms and carry her to her bed. He wanted to peel every last inch of her clothing from her body, and then he wanted to worship her. He wanted to show her all the things he wasn't sure he knew how to say.
|
|
just-like-heaven
marcus
julia-quinn
|
Julia Quinn |
a51248d
|
He blinked a few times, each motion so slow that he was never quite sure if he'd get his eyes open again. He wasn't wearing a shirt. Funny how he was only just realizing it. Funnier still that he couldn't seem to summon any concern for her maidenly sensibilities. She might be blushing. He couldn't tell. It was too dark to see. But it didn't matter. This was Honoria. She was a good egg. A sensible egg. She wouldn't be scarred forever by the sight of his chest.
|
|
just-like-heaven
marcus
julia-quinn
|
Julia Quinn |
a8eee7c
|
Honoria had a plan. It had come to her in church that morning. (The ladies went; the gentlemen somehow managed to get out of it.) It wasn't terribly complicated; she needed only a sunny day, a halfway acceptable sense of direction, and a shovel.
|
|
just-like-heaven
julia-quinn
|
Julia Quinn |
b1f4402
|
"They all turned to the dark-haired woman standing quietly to the side and slightly behind Aunt Charlotte. She was, in a word, gorgeous. Everything about her was perfection, from her shiny hair to her milky-white skin. Her face was heart-shaped, her lips full and pink, and her eyelashes were so long that Honoria thought they must touch her brows if she opened her eyes too wide. "Well," Honoria murmured to Iris, "at least no one will be looking at us."
|
|
honoria
just-like-heaven
julia-quinn
iris
|
Julia Quinn |