A little shyly—and the way the freckle-nosed angel bit her lip made Elizabeth shiver faintly somewhere deep within—the girl gave a jerky sort of nod, then pulled her thin sweater up off over her head, making russet-tinged waves tumble about in glorious profusion.
She was kittenish and sleek, with a trim young torso tapering smoothly down to the dark-skirted hips whose feminine swell was accentuated by her seated pose upon the couch. The little freckles that graced her pale shoulders, thought Elizabeth very mildly, were simply the cutest things ever. For a moment the older woman let her heavy-lidded green eyes slide consideringly over the lacy cotton of the delicate little brassiere cups, and the endearing narrowness of the straps that rose along the insides of those lovely bare shoulders.
