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“She sat up again, horror filling her as the memory came flooding back. "Oh, no," she said out loud, quite distinctly. And out of the darkness his voice, the low, cool drawl with the faint trace of a lilt, said, "Oh, yes." Emma slid her legs around, pulling her feet on the thick French carpet. Her dress was tumbling down around her shoulders, and she knew whom to thank for that service. "You," she said, not bothering to disguise the horror in her voice. "Me," he agreed. "Come to your rescue once more, my sweet.” — Anne Stuart
She sat up again, horror filling her as the memory came flooding back. "Oh, no," she said out loud, quite distinctly.
And out of the darkness his voice, the low, cool drawl with the faint trace of a lilt, said, "Oh, yes."
Emma slid her legs around, pulling her feet on the thick French carpet. Her dress was tumbling down around her shoulders, and she knew whom to thank for that service. "You," she said, not bothering to disguise the horror in her voice.
"Me," he agreed. "Come to your rescue once more, my sweet.