Michelle Willingham Quote

You’ll have to forgive me for being half-clothed, a chara, he apologized, but I was robbed on my journey here by a group of damned thieving boys. Now what did he mean by that? Rose shut her eyes tightly and opened them again. No, he was still there. She filled her lungs with air, prepared to scream for all that was holy. I won’t be harming you, he said, lifting his hands in surrender, but I would be most grateful for some clothes. Not yours, of course. He sent her a roguish grin. She gaped at him, still uncertain of who he was. But she had to admit that he was indeed an attractive man, in a pirate sort of way. His brown hair was cut short, and his cheeks were bristled, as if he’d forgotten to shave. She tried not to stare at his bare chest, but he cocked his head and rested his hands at his waist. His chest muscles were well defined, his skin tawny from the sun. Ridges at his abdomen caught her eye, and it was clear enough that he was a working man. Perhaps a groom or a footman. Gentlemen did not possess muscles like these, especially if they lived a life of leisure. His green eyes were staring at her with amusement, and Rose found herself spellbound by his presence. Do you not speak, he asked, or have I cast you into silence with my nakedness? Y-you’re not naked, she blurted out. Her anxiety twisted up inside her, and she began babbling. That is, you’re mostly covered, she corrected, her face flaming. The important bits, anyway. Not naked? What sort of remark was that? She was sitting in the garden with a stranger wearing only trousers, and she hadn’t yet called out for help. What was the matter with her? He could be an intruder bent upon attacking her. But he laughed at her remark. It was a rich, deep tone that reminded her of wickedness. Rose