Imagine meeting Gloria at the airport. The pens and paper caused more questions. As she began to doze, she was vaguely aware of a feminine giggle nearby. Nor did she try to take advantage of his constant confusion in this century.
Nicholas, his arm swathed in a bloody bandage, was sitting on a horse and watching her progress toward him. Conservative. Would he tell Dougless that he’d marry her and run with her to bed? He didn’t want to tell her that Arabella, once so very, very appealing, was now a bore to him. When he sat on the chair, the softness enveloped him.
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