She found herself looking sheepishly around the bedroom when a sudden tingle of electricity moved from her groin, fanning out from her belly. And now she had sent Jack away. She was dressed as English girls do dress for town, without either coquetry or harshness: her collarless blouse confessed a pretty neck, her eyes were bright and steady, and her dark hair waved loosely and graciously over her ears. Did he see him, this Monsieur Charvill?’ ‘I don’t rightly know, miss,’ confessed Kimble. “Only it is much too late for you to be out alone. " Miserably his thoughts shuttled to and fro in search of what he knew she wanted —a love story.
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