The Iovellis were very rich, from what she could tell. Lucy grabbed the hand cannon, stuffing it with powder, nearly missing a swing of the sword meant for her neck. It’s that father of yours you take after, no question. . Each became frightfully aware of the other as a plastic energetic body, of the strong muscles of neck against cheek, of hands gripping shoulder-blade and waist. “You are mine, Annabel, and nothing shall ever make me give you up. Very slowly, very fearfully, she turned her head. This salute of his—actually the first she could remember—while it did not disturb her, began to lead her thoughts into new channels of speculation. She calmed herself, breathing deeply. She caught her breath, and her eyes were lit with a sudden terror. How could she tell him what indeed already began to puzzle herself, why she had borrowed that money at all? The plain fact was that she had grabbed a bait.
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