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She carefully stepped over the candles, and pulled the robe Gwyn had lent her off the hook on the wall, feeling a little bit better as she tightened the black silk belt around her waist.
Silk straight on wet skin?? This author is not going for practicality I see
Bowen, the middle brother, had fucked off to the mountains of Snowdonia two years ago,
*sigh* living the dream
She’d stick to her floral prints and polka dots.
Oh no. She’s quirky.
“Vivienne, I have already had a morning; if you’re here to attempt to kill me again, I warn you, it will be very unsporting of you.”
“You . . . literally said, ‘I curse you, Rhys Penhallow,’ and now you’re surprised that I, Rhys Penhallow, am cursed?
“He talks now.” Gwyn blinked at her, then looked back to Sir Purrcival before giving a shriek of delight and clapping her hands. “He does?” Rushing into the room, she scooped up her cat, holding him in front of her face. “What did he say?” she asked. “Because I’ve always wanted a talking cat, and I think if any cat is going to be a stimulating conversationalist, it’s—” “Treeeeaaaaaats,” Sir Purrcival croaked again, and then began wiggling in Gwyn’s arms. “Treatstreatstreatstreatsfoodtreats.”
“Besides,” Rhys said, “it’s clearly not safe for me to be out on my own now, all cursed and what have you, so might as well stick close to the one that did the cursing.” “I am never living this down, am I?” “It’s certainly going to be the subject of conversation for a while, yes.”
“I don’t wish you dead, you git, but it’s obvious that you can’t stay there with a coven of witches who cursed you.”
Okay well when you put it like that
Like her skin was too tight, and his was too far away, like she wanted to crawl inside him.
Those should stay inside thoughts Vivi
“We’re completely wrong for each other!” “Which is why it’s hot.”
And why we’re all here
As soon as Elaine opened the door, the little furry bastard looked up at Rhys and very succinctly said, “Dickbag.”
He’s evolving!
