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“Sitting in a wing-back chair, his long legs stretched out before him, Rothbury nodded slowly at all the appropriate times, elbows on the arms of the chair, long fingers steepled. And then, possibly because he hadn't had his tea yet, her father's lecture veered wildly off course, delving into the sins of the flesh. Charlotte nearly groaned. But then she stopped. Quite suddenly, she realized Rothbury had found her gaze in the crack of the door. He knew she was there, listening. He winked. And for all her past misinterpretations of that particular gesture, she knew without a doubt just what that wink promised.” — Olivia Parker
Sitting in a wing-back chair, his long legs stretched out before him, Rothbury nodded slowly at all the appropriate times, elbows on the arms of the chair, long fingers steepled.
And then, possibly because he hadn't had his tea yet, her father's lecture veered wildly off course, delving into the sins of the flesh.
Charlotte nearly groaned. But then she stopped. Quite suddenly, she realized Rothbury had found her gaze in the crack of the door. He knew she was there, listening. He winked.
And for all her past misinterpretations of that particular gesture, she knew without a doubt just what that wink promised.