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She shot a hand against the jam, as if to hold herself up.
"And yours?" he asked, thinking he'd get as light a response.
"Cherished is the very last word I could use."
She declared that with such vehemence, he cocked his head, alarmed. "Fifi?"
She put both hands out, warding him off. "Go, please. Go to the frolic. I will see you later."
She drew a fierce boundary and he dare not cross it.
He'd make her his wife first. Prove to her how safe she was with him. Then he'd ask the meaning of this.
