“You, Rosamund, are a wonder,” he complimented once more, bringing a blush back to her cheeks. Dammit and damn him, she was not a woman to blush, and yet he was forcing her to do so every few minutes. She felt like a schoolgirl with each one, which was absurd because she was a grown-ass woman in her thirties who knew what a fucking amazing person she was, and she was... not the sort of woman who blushed over compliments.
