“ She will not bow her head to any woman or man, so why, indeed, should she bow to a needle? ”
She threw herself across her bed, weeping into a pillow. She knew just what she wanted -- the desire was a fierce ache inside her. But fiercer still was the knowledge that it was beyond the reach of a female.
~ Libbie Hawker
Nafsha is so concerned with my virginity. I am beginning to think she would wed me herself. Alas, the only tool she might use to make me a woman is her tongue -- and it is far too sharp for me to allow it beneath my skirts.
In the dull, persistent beat of her heart, she hears the rhythm of hope. It is faint and thin as a thread, but it is there.
Still, if I don't believe in the possibility, I might go mad from fear.
