FiftyPania slumped against the reassuring strength of John’s shoulder, his arm braced around her back, holding her steady. Despite her dizziness a sense of warm security washed over her. He’d held her close as a dance partner at the balls when they were younger, but that was different. She’d never before experienced the warm intimacy that trickled up from the soles of her feet to her core as she relaxed against him. It was almost worth pretending to be out of it a while longer to prolong the closeness.
The sun that shafted through a window into the small room made her eyes smart, and she let them flutter closed again while she savored his strength. They were in some kind of gaol. The shadow of cell bars spilled across the floor, and she heard the soft murmur of men’s voices. . .
How did
