vision.
“What the—”
In a blur, he saw Annie tuck in her chin and hunch her shoulders. In barely the nick of time, he shifted sideways so that when she reared back again, her head connected harmlessly with his shoulder.
The little minx! He’d taken blows from the fists of stout men and felt less dazed. Hovering somewhere between outrage and amazement, Alex gaped at her, not quite able to credit her daring. Poleaxed! And by a slip of a girl. Jesus. He could easily break her neck with one well-placed blow. Didn’t she comprehend that?
Evidently not. Realizing her target had moved, she flung her head sideways, nailing him on the ear.
“Ouch! You little—”
Whoever said the earlobe had no feeling?
“Annie, don’t—”
Kerwhack! Agony lanced along his cheek. He hooked his chin over her shoulder to minimize her swing.
Her temple promptly connected with the side of his skull, causing her more discomfort than it did him, he felt sure.
“Annie... Whoa, there, love. I’m not going to hurt you. Stop it, now.”
Kerthunk—kerthunk—kerwhack! Alex clenched his teeth, beginning to feel as if his brains were marbles in a bag and someone was giving them a shake. He bit down hard to stifle a curse. Whether she understood him or not, it went against his grain to use bad language in front of a female.
As if she realized the futility of trying to bludgeon him with her head, she tensed her body in one last, valiant effort to break free of his hold. Then she shuddered, the force of it vibrating through him and conveying her terror more eloquently than words.
Alex closed his eyes, swamped with equal measures of guilt and regret. After what Douglas had done to her, it was criminal for her to be put through this. Her parents should be shot, and he along with them.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
“I won’t hurt you, sweet. Just calm down.”
She shuddered again. Then she went limp. He wished he knew of some way to ease her fears. But there was nothing he could think of to say or do. Nothing.
After a few minutes, the rhythmic sway of the carriage seemed to lull her. Judging it to be safe, Alex dared to straighten. He half expected her to lambaste him with her head again, but nothing happened.
Eyeing the dejected slump of her thin shoulders, he decided that sheer exhaustion had claimed its victory.
Studying the back of her bent head, he couldn’t fail to notice the sweet curve of her neck where her sable hair had parted. The skin there looked as soft as silk. Remembering her sitting on the landing earlier, he smiled slightly. Despite the vague, confused expression in her large blue eyes, she had a lovely little face.
A beautiful shell, that was Annie. There was no way he could accurately determine what degree of intelligence she might possess, but he guessed she had the mind of about a six-year-old, and not a very smart six-year-old, at that. It seemed such a waste. Such a terrible waste.
Lulled by her stillness and preoccupied with his thoughts, he relaxed his hold on her slightly. Sensing a chance for escape, she gave a sudden jerk and twisted violently in his arms. He grappled to reestablish dominance. In doing so, he shifted his grip on her ribs and encountered a breast. Long after he moved his hand, the fleeting impression of feminine softness seared his palm.
Right as rain from the neck down, Douglas had once said of her, and now that he’d had his hands all over her, Alex was in complete, though reluctant, agreement. Annie Trimble might be sorely lacking between the ears, but nature had generously compensated for the deficiency. Hidden under the shapeless frocks she wore, the tempting curves of her body weren’t apparent to the eye. They were, however, very apparent to the touch.
In proportion to her size, her breasts weren’t as small as he had originally thought, and despite her pregnancy, she still had a slender waist, accentuated by gently rounded
“What the—”
In a blur, he saw Annie tuck in her chin and hunch her shoulders. In barely the nick of time, he shifted sideways so that when she reared back again, her head connected harmlessly with his shoulder.
The little minx! He’d taken blows from the fists of stout men and felt less dazed. Hovering somewhere between outrage and amazement, Alex gaped at her, not quite able to credit her daring. Poleaxed! And by a slip of a girl. Jesus. He could easily break her neck with one well-placed blow. Didn’t she comprehend that?
Evidently not. Realizing her target had moved, she flung her head sideways, nailing him on the ear.
“Ouch! You little—”
Whoever said the earlobe had no feeling?
“Annie, don’t—”
Kerwhack! Agony lanced along his cheek. He hooked his chin over her shoulder to minimize her swing.
Her temple promptly connected with the side of his skull, causing her more discomfort than it did him, he felt sure.
“Annie... Whoa, there, love. I’m not going to hurt you. Stop it, now.”
Kerthunk—kerthunk—kerwhack! Alex clenched his teeth, beginning to feel as if his brains were marbles in a bag and someone was giving them a shake. He bit down hard to stifle a curse. Whether she understood him or not, it went against his grain to use bad language in front of a female.
As if she realized the futility of trying to bludgeon him with her head, she tensed her body in one last, valiant effort to break free of his hold. Then she shuddered, the force of it vibrating through him and conveying her terror more eloquently than words.
Alex closed his eyes, swamped with equal measures of guilt and regret. After what Douglas had done to her, it was criminal for her to be put through this. Her parents should be shot, and he along with them.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
“I won’t hurt you, sweet. Just calm down.”
She shuddered again. Then she went limp. He wished he knew of some way to ease her fears. But there was nothing he could think of to say or do. Nothing.
After a few minutes, the rhythmic sway of the carriage seemed to lull her. Judging it to be safe, Alex dared to straighten. He half expected her to lambaste him with her head again, but nothing happened.
Eyeing the dejected slump of her thin shoulders, he decided that sheer exhaustion had claimed its victory.
Studying the back of her bent head, he couldn’t fail to notice the sweet curve of her neck where her sable hair had parted. The skin there looked as soft as silk. Remembering her sitting on the landing earlier, he smiled slightly. Despite the vague, confused expression in her large blue eyes, she had a lovely little face.
A beautiful shell, that was Annie. There was no way he could accurately determine what degree of intelligence she might possess, but he guessed she had the mind of about a six-year-old, and not a very smart six-year-old, at that. It seemed such a waste. Such a terrible waste.
Lulled by her stillness and preoccupied with his thoughts, he relaxed his hold on her slightly. Sensing a chance for escape, she gave a sudden jerk and twisted violently in his arms. He grappled to reestablish dominance. In doing so, he shifted his grip on her ribs and encountered a breast. Long after he moved his hand, the fleeting impression of feminine softness seared his palm.
Right as rain from the neck down, Douglas had once said of her, and now that he’d had his hands all over her, Alex was in complete, though reluctant, agreement. Annie Trimble might be sorely lacking between the ears, but nature had generously compensated for the deficiency. Hidden under the shapeless frocks she wore, the tempting curves of her body weren’t apparent to the eye. They were, however, very apparent to the touch.
In proportion to her size, her breasts weren’t as small as he had originally thought, and despite her pregnancy, she still had a slender waist, accentuated by gently rounded
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