“She decided to run. His arm was as heavy as a tree branch across her chest. His weight, which she’d easily tolerated moments ago, was now unwieldy. Using both hands, she lifted his arm, then didn’t know how to place it beside his body without its being at an awkward angle. He might wake, and she didn’t want that. So, as stealthily as a thief, she eased out from under his arm, landing on her bottom on the floor. A sharp glance assured her he had not noticed anything amiss. He slept on as if he h...adn’t turned her world inside out. Sabrina jumped to her feet, pulling her bodice up over her shoulders and shaking out her skirts to restore her modesty—and found she hated the dress she wore. She’d never wear it again. She couldn’t without recalling this moment in vivid detail. That he’d so easily and completely bypassed her good sense and judgment to claim her virtue, then had the audacity to sleep as if he didn’t have a care in the world made her irrationally wish to burn the dress.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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