The Wallflower Wager: Girl Meets Duke

Chase rose to his feet and went to the hind end of the goat. “I’ll look. I’m not afraid. I intend to be there for every moment of the miracle of my own child’s birth.” He crouched and squinted. “And . . . I’ve changed my mind.”

Wordlessly, Hammond lifted his arm, extended a single finger, and poked the housekeeper in the shoulder. Mrs. Burns stared at him. “Yes, Mr. Hammond?” “Solid corporeal form,” he muttered. “Interesting.”

“Pretty girl,” the bird squawked. Gabe set his jaw. Do you think I haven’t noticed that, you cursed pigeon with pretensions?

“You’re right. People do have choices. Sometimes they make cruel, unforgivable ones. But we can choose to keep our little corner of the world warm and safe.”

“She’d settle more if I covered her cage,” his beautiful intruder said. “I don’t suppose you have a towel?” He glanced at the linen slung about his hips. “How badly do you want it?”

“Are you hungry?” “I’m always hungry.”

I don’t mind saying the mystery is driving me a bit mad.” “Fuck.” She froze. “I’m not that upset about it.” He returned to the bedchamber, now clothed in a pair of trousers and an unbuttoned shirt. “It’s what the parrot’s saying. ‘Fancy a fuck, love.’ That bird came from a whorehouse.”

it’s not a goat, then what is it?” “It’s a punishment for all my earthly sins, is what it is.” “Describe it,” Chase said. “I’ve done my research. What does it look like?” “Picture a soap bubble,” Ashbury said slowly. “Then picture a soap bubble blown in Hell, by a demon with a phlegmy cold.” Chase doubled over. “I think I just vomited in my mouth.”

“A nose means it’s headfirst. And that’s good. A leg would be bad. I think.” “You think?” “It depends on whether it’s a foreleg or hind leg.” “How do we tell which it is?” “I don’t know!” Chase exclaimed. “I’m not a veterinarian!”