Her hair had become so matted that Sebastian had sheared it off, which made her the very mirage of a nubile young boy. Dizzily, she grabbed at the mantel for support and, resting her head on her hands, paid no heed to a betraying sound behind her—until an unexpected arm encircled her. Their lovemaking became a whole new realm for her as he was experienced as he was subtle. ‘Here you, Pottiswick. ‘Seems quiet enough,’ observed the junior officer, his gaze raking the shuttered windows of the building’s grey stone frontage. On a bench at the foot of the trees, with a pipe in his mouth, and a tankard by his side, sat the worthy carpenter, looking the picture of good-heartedness and benevolence. “Why do you kill me?” Michelle asked.
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