If One Didn't Have Love, Was It

I‟m Going To Kill Her,” Francesca Said To No One In Particular. Which Was Probably A Good Thing, As There Was No One Else Present. “who Are You Talking To?” Hyacinth Demanded. “god,” Francesca Said Baldly. “and I Do Believe I Have Been Given Divine Leave To Murder You.” “hmmph,” Was Hyacinth‟s Response. “if It Was That Easy, I‟d Have Asked Permission To Eliminate Half The Ton Years Ago.” Francesca Decided Just Then That Not All Of Hyacinth‟s Statements Required A Rejoinder. In Fact, Few Of Them Did.

Because If He Looked Like He Was Unaffected By Her Smile, Then She Would Not Realize That, In Actuality, He Was In An Utter Panic Because Somewhere Deep Down Inside He’d Realized That His Life Had Just Changed Forever.

And For The Rest Of The Night, He Couldn’t Quite Forget The Smell Of Her Perfume. Or Maybe It Was The Soft Sound Of Her Chuckle. Or Maybe It Was Neither Of Those Things. Maybe It Was Just Her.

He Sighed, Wondering How His Life Had Been Turned Upside Down By This Woman In Less Than Forty-eight Hours. Correction: By This Woman, A Pig, And A Rabbit.

No Words For The Passion. No Words For The Need.no Words For The Sheer Epiphany Of The Moment.and So, On An Otherwise Unremarkable Friday Afternoon, In The Heart Of Mayfair, In A Quiet Drawing Room On Mount Street, Colin Bridgerton Kissed Penelope Featherington.and It Was Glorious.