“I beg you, monsieur. Please, don’t do this. I’m married with children.” “Hush, my little dove.” He laughed, lifting Tuyet off her feet as if she were a child. He embraced her, his face close to hers. In a flash, she took in his startling blue eyes as he tried to put his lips on her mouth. She twisted away. When he pressed his beard into her face, she bit his chin. A mouthful of hair, oil, ash, and tobacco. He yelped, releasing her.
