The Lady of Charlotte, Part 5
In which Olivier is confused...
She was so very short. Olivier wasn’t sure he had ever had to bend over so far to kiss a woman’s forehead. And merde did she look worse than yesterday. Although her nose was almost back to its normal size, the bruises under her eyes matched the iron scraps he’d gathered for smelting that morning.
The skin on her forehead was soft against his lips. Her arms were soft beneath his fingers. She was, he thought vaguely, extremely feminine.
It was not a thought he’d ever had about her. It startled him so much that he pulled back—to find Monroe almost to them. The man looked like he’d swallowed a bag of nails, and it gave Olivier a small slice of satisfaction. Le con.
“You’re amazing,” Charlotte whispered before turning to face Monroe. Her eyes were bloodshot, her cheeks flushed. “Harry, I think our conversation is done here. Olivier and I are going to eat lunch now, so you can—”
“I’ll join you.” Harry grinned. It didn’t reach his eyes, …
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Misfits & Daydreamers to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.