" Being held, she thought, a little dazed. She was being held by a man, by Beckett, and in a way that didn't feel friendly or helpful. In a way that made something coil inside her, a long, slow wind.
Something that felt exactly like lust.
It spread in a swamping wave as she watched his gaze slide down to her mouth, hold there. She smelled honeysuckle. Moonlight and honeysuckle.
"Elizabeth". I call her Elizabeth because the first time I was sure she was here I was in Elizabeth and Darcy. This building - or parts of it- has been here for two and a half centuries. It would strike me odder if there wasn't a ghost. Not everthin, everyone, leaves.
You don't know people till you know them.
In the instant that he looked up, met her eyes, his warm, warm fule and full of fun, she fell. Maybe she'd been sling, she realized, inching her way along. But this was the finish line, the moment she knew-no coubts-she loved. The moment she could see herself with him next month, next year, next always. "
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You don't know people till you know them.
In the instant that he looked up, met her eyes, his warm, warm fule and full of fun, she fell. Maybe she'd been sling, she realized, inching her way along. But this was the finish line, the moment she knew-no coubts-she loved. The moment she could see herself with him next month, next year, next always." style="width:100%;margin:20px 0;"/>