She ran her gaze over him, and allowed her eyelashes to flutter down. Thunder rumbled behind the manicured hills. A strong arm pulled her closer, and the lips that mouthed her own in tender touches sent her senses reeling. Awful shapes seemed to flit by, borne on the wings of the tempest, animating and directing its fury. He conveyed not only his sense of the extreme want of correctitude in their unsanctioned meetings, but also that, so far as he was concerned, this irregularity mattered not at all, that he had flung—and kept on flinging—such considerations to the wind. We are alone, Sir Rowland," he added, snuffing the candles, glancing cautiously around, and lowering his tone, "and what you confide to me shall never transpire,—at least to your disadvantage. ’ A tiny giggle escaped her, and she lowered the pistol a trifle. " "This comes of fine feelings!" muttered Jonathan, contemptuously. ” Inwardly, she laughed at the idea of him trying to beat on her, flailing, his arms akimbo. The tension was palpable.
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