Everyone Has Secrets. Especially Me.

Do I Look Like A Mess?” She Asked. He Nodded. “but You’re My Mess,” He Whispered.

He Blinked A Few Times, Each Motion So Slow That He Was Never Quite Sure If He’d Get His Eyes Open Again. He Wasn’t Wearing A Shirt. Funny How He Was Only Just Realizing It. Funnier Still That He Couldn’t Seem To Summon Any Concern For Her Maidenly Sensibilities. She Might Be Blushing. He Couldn’t Tell. It Was Too Dark To See. But It Didn’t Matter. This Was Honoria. She Was A Good Egg. A Sensible Egg. She Wouldn’t Be Scarred Forever By The Sight Of His Chest.

This Is Why I Didn't Get Married Last Year," She Said To Him. "i Wouldn't Be Here To Nurse You." She Thought About That For A Moment. "of Course, One Could Make The Argument That You Wouldn't Be In This Situation If Not For Me. But We're Not Going To Dwell Upon That.

Daniel Held Himself Very Still, Waiting For The Wave Of Jealousy That Never Came. He Was Furious With The Man Who’d Taken Advantage Of Her Innocence, But He Did Not Feel Jealous. He Did Not Need To Be Her First, He Realized. He Simply Needed To Be Her Last. Her Only.

Is There Anything Else I Can Do To See To Your Comfort, Miss Trent?" Perriwick Inquired. "she's Fine," Blake Growled. "clearly, She--" "perriwick, Isn't The West Wing On Fire?" Perriwick Blinked, Sniffed The Air, And Stared At His Employer In Dismay. "i Do Not Understand Sir.