Her Defiant Heart by Jo Goodman

wanted to pull back the drapes at the top. For want of anything better to do with the sashes, Jenny slipped them around her neck as she climbed onto the chair.
    The drapery rings were not difficult to move once she could reach them properly, but she was disappointed with the effect once the drapes were parted. Even if the sun deigned to make an appearance on this wintry day, it was still too early for it to have much impact. She leaned toward the window and rubbed at the frosted panes with the heel of her hand, hoping to let in what light was available. When she tried to lean back to survey her work, she felt a tug at the nape of her neck. Belatedly she realized her chignon had been caught by one of the open drapery rings.
    Jenny's efforts to unhook it were unsatisfactory. She did not want to ruin the coil she had taken such pains with only hours earlier. When she stamped her foot in frustration, the chair teetered. One of the sashes around her neck slipped beneath her collar. Not only did it itch uncomfortably, it made her want to sneeze. She reached for it, intending to draw it off.
    If Jenny had not been concentrating on her work she might have noticed the cessation of her employer's light snoring. Christian Marshall had turned on his side moments earlier, opened bleary eyes, and immediately confronted a vision that almost stopped his heart.
    In the murky gray light that filtered into the room, he saw the shadowy outline of a woman in the process of using his drapery rod to hang herself. Given her intent, there was no doubt in Christian's mind as to her identity. As far as he knew there was only one woman in his household who might have reason to contemplate suicide. The chair rocked, and he sucked in his breath. She lifted the rope around her neck.
    That is when Christian made his move.
    Throwing the covers back, he leaped out of bed. His legs, weak from inactivity, nearly gave way. In spite of that he stumbled toward Jenny and flung out his arms to catch her as the chair teetered again. She screamed when his hands clamped around her waist, but because her voice was still so fragile, the sound she made was pathetically weak. The chair tipped over, set in motion more by Christian's lunging than anything Jenny did, and thudded to the floor. Christian and Jenny followed the path of the chair, and since Jenny tried to save herself by grabbing the drapery rod, they were in turn followed by the heavy velvet drapes, the rod, and a light sprinkling of plaster dust when the valance supports were torn from the wall.
    Christian twisted, taking the brunt of the fall, and brought Jenny down on top of him. They both narrowly missed the chair. The drapery rod caught Jenny across the shoulders, but it wasn't a painful blow. She ducked her head instinctively, burying it against the crook of Christian's shoulder. The rod slipped to one side and the drapes cocooned them.
    Christian raised his head, groaned, and lowered it to the floor again. His eyes were closed. Jenny thought he had passed out, but when she started to move away, his large hands tightened on her waist. In one fluid motion he turned them both until she was lying beneath him. The drapes were tangled between them. She had been here before, she thought giddily as she stared up into cool aquamarine eyes. They were piercing in their slow perusal of her face.
    "It is you," Christian said finally. She looked far healthier than the last time he had seen her. Her complexion was agreeably flushed, and her wide brown eyes with their splinters of cinnamon color were bright. Her beautifully molded lips were slightly parted, moist, and pink. The body that pressed against him was familiar as well, uncomfortably so. His hands could nearly span her waist, and her breasts, in spite of the ridiculously severe gown she was wearing, felt full against his chest. "What in the hell do you think you were doing?"
    With great dignity Jenny replied, "Don't swear at me, please." When this request merely