"You're a rebel," she said. It was not a question, but I nodded."My husband was not. Didn't hold with war at all, with killing."I told her my name and...she said hers was Fran. "Francine actually," she said with a small laugh. "My mother rather favored the French. A Huguenot her father or grandfather was, I've forgotten which."We stood awkwardly in her back room. The house was quiet, and I assumed we were alone. She might have been twenty-five, perhaps even thirty, with a fine forehead, strong. Alright, you had fun playing around with the ‘passably pretty mouse.’ You can quit it and leave me alone.’ Angry, hurt and convinced that Jake was toying around with her, Daisy tried to pull out of his grasp. But she couldn’t, he just tightened his arms around her and rubbed his erection against her belly. ‘Don’t test my patience, Daisy Maze,’ he used her other favorite nickname from him that she absolutely loved, even if she wouldn’t admit it. ‘You know that I have just been waiting for you to. More

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