She gulped. Even his rich winterberry voice sounded so much crisper than usual, it took her slightly off balance. Her mind recognized her body's desire just to reach out now and touch him. To touch Arland. But she couldn't. Not to save her life. What stung her eyes, so everything turned misty-white, was the last thing she'd expected.
Cursing, she lifted her chin. "I … I … I …" Well, that was a lot of use. Dug could probably yelp better. "Arland… your … your… hair," she said, in a strangled voice.
How the hell could she possibly open her mouth and let that rubbish fall out?Go to say it again too? Was she insane? Obviously. Ma always said her father was. It should be no surprise to learn things ran in families. Pray God, Arland would think you're here, was what she'd said.
She couldn't
