As the daughter of a famed author, Isolde Ophelia Goodnight grew up on tales of brave knights and fair maidens. She never doubted romance would be in her future, too. The storybooks offered endless possibilities.
And as she grew older, Izzy crossed them off. One by one by one.
Ugly duckling turned swan?
Abducted by handsome highwayman?
Rescued from drudgery by charming prince?
No, no, and… Heh.
Now Izzy’s given up yearning for romance. She’ll settle for a roof over her head. What fairy tales are left over for an impoverished twenty-six year-old woman who’s never even been kissed?
This one.
“I’ll have you know, Goodnight, you have been the ruination of all my plans.”
“All of them?” she said. “Really? That sounds like an accomplishment.”
“Don’t be so smug. There weren’t many plans left to ruin. There was exactly one plan remaining, in point of fact, which was to stay here until I rotted to dust.” He sat tall again and pushed a hand through his hair. “Then you came along.”
“Don’t tell me you’ve found the desire to live again, and it’s all to do with me.” Fabric whispered as she slid farther into her chair. “I wouldn’t recognize you.”
“For God’s sake. Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?”
“Smile.”
“How do you know I’m smiling?”
“I can hear it. Hell, I can feel it. It’s all warm and sweet and . . .” He scowled. “Bah.”
She made a little crooning noise. “Oh, Ransom.”
“That’s even worse.” He lifted his shoulders, as if they could shield his ears. “See, this is why you’ve ruined everything. Just ask that fellow we found in the wall. For centuries now, a man couldn’t find a better place than Gostley Castle to shrivel up and decay. Not anymore. Now there are draperies and dinner parties. It’s insupportable.”
Comments