Morgan was looking at the food in front of her suspiciously, as if it intended to merely reside for a bit inside her, then liberate itself at a most inconvenient time.

You great bloody bully.””Which is exactly what you need, you vexatious headstrong wench.

Because I am a connoisseur of fine irony. ’Tis a bit like fine wine, but has a better bite.

She was sitting in a garden more beautiful than even her rampaging imagination could ever have conjured up, and she was being serenaded by trees.

Kendrick walked over to her purposefully, hauled her up into his arms and gave her a mock frown. “I hunger, wench.”Genevieve put her arms around his neck. “Well? What are you going to hunt us...