Damsel In Disguise
Susan Gee Heino
“So what do I owe you for the rescue, my lord?” she asked, wriggling into a more upright position, her knees pulled
tightly toward her chest.
“You can’t even approach what you owe me, Julia.”
“Very well, then. I’ll simply say thank you and leave it at that.”
Leave it at that? Indeed, he supposed he should. But he wouldn’t.
“Not on your life,” he said and was foolish enough to touch her.
He stroked her shoulder where the skin was exposed. A bolt of unexpected lightning coursed through his veins and
his fingers flexed. She was warm, soft. Somehow he hadn’t expected that. It seemed after becoming Mrs. Fitzgelder
she should have turned as cold and serpent-like as her damned husband. But she hadn’t. Her skin was as perfect as he
remembered it.
His hand ached for more of her so he slid his fingers down to hook the blanket. Slowly, he dragged it lower until it
hung off her shoulder and she had to clutch it against herself to remain covered. She glared at him, her dangerous eyes
tempting and warning at the same time. He’d be an absolute fool to continue.
Then again, he’d always been her fool, hadn’t he? He’d believed her lies; he’d fallen for her deception. He’d promised
to make her his wife, for God’s sake. And even after three years, the woman still occupied his mind and tortured his
dreams.
Susan Gee Heino
“So what do I owe you for the rescue, my lord?” she asked, wriggling into a more upright position, her knees pulled
tightly toward her chest.
“You can’t even approach what you owe me, Julia.”
“Very well, then. I’ll simply say thank you and leave it at that.”
Leave it at that? Indeed, he supposed he should. But he wouldn’t.
“Not on your life,” he said and was foolish enough to touch her.
He stroked her shoulder where the skin was exposed. A bolt of unexpected lightning coursed through his veins and
his fingers flexed. She was warm, soft. Somehow he hadn’t expected that. It seemed after becoming Mrs. Fitzgelder
she should have turned as cold and serpent-like as her damned husband. But she hadn’t. Her skin was as perfect as he
remembered it.
His hand ached for more of her so he slid his fingers down to hook the blanket. Slowly, he dragged it lower until it
hung off her shoulder and she had to clutch it against herself to remain covered. She glared at him, her dangerous eyes
tempting and warning at the same time. He’d be an absolute fool to continue.
Then again, he’d always been her fool, hadn’t he? He’d believed her lies; he’d fallen for her deception. He’d promised
to make her his wife, for God’s sake. And even after three years, the woman still occupied his mind and tortured his
dreams.
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