“Lady Writer,” she heard the deep, resonant rumble she loved so much. “You were asleep a very long time . . .”
Lady Writer looked up into Sir Guy’s kohl-rimmed eyes and saw amusement mixed with concern reflected in that azure gaze of his.
He sat down on the bed beside her. Tilting his head as he flicked back a stray lock of that lustrous mane, Guy gave her one of those smiles. The sort of smile that made her heart beat a little faster.
“I thought perhaps I would have to revive you as the prince did in Sleeping Beauty. And also–Snow White, I believe?”
Lady Writer’s blue eyes widened behind her glasses. Damn, why did that stupid sound machine have to go and wake her up by cutting off? Waking up courtesy of Sir Guy would have been so much more enjoyable . . .
She saw a certain familiar gleam appear in those beautiful peepers of his. “Ah, you find that notion not–unappealing?” Guy’s voice grew even deeper and huskier as he leaned towards her.
Lady Writer cleared her throat and straightened her pajama-clad shoulders. “Oh, I can think of worse ways to awake, I suppose,” she said with a deliberate nonchalance, which didn’t fool the ChaRActer Porter loved to call the Medieval Menace one little bit.
He raised one dark brow as he folded those muscular arms across that equally muscular chest. In spite of his penchant for Cheez-Its and fudgy brownies and Moo-llenuim Crunch Blue Bell ice cream, Sir Guy had stayed in remarkably good–erm–shape.
“And I would have been glad to make such a sacrific, milady.” He said with the utmost sincerity. Guy had perfected such lines from his years with the Treacherous Troll, when he had been forced to hear and speak a lot of bull.
Lady Writer’s brows rose-both of them. “Such a–sacrifice?”
He nodded with great solemnity. “Yes, a sacrifice I would gladly make in order to preserve something most cherished.”
“What’s that, Sir Guy?”
“Why–Guyday Friday, of course! I could not let you sleep through that . . . t’would disappoint your readers all across the world.” He gave her one of those teasing boyish smiles that transformed his features. He did smile more often now that he was SND.
Lady Writer sighed. “I should never have mentioned the fact you are the most popular character on the blog . . .”
His smile broadened into one of those irresistibly maddening grins as he wagged his long, elegant finger at her. “You should never have made me privy to your passwords, Lady Writer. Or taught me all about the Internet. And reading and writing and . . .”
Lady Writer suddenly leaned forward and pressed a quick yet hearty kiss to Guy’s lips. Which are just as soft as you all have imagined. Sitting back, she giggled at the look of surprise on her dark knight’s face.
“Gotcha,” she said, the green and gold flecks in her own blue eyes dancing. “Happy Guyday Friday, you big lug.”
Guy smirked and heaved a sigh, then lifted an imaginary glass.
“You’ve been watching Turner Classic Movies again, haven’t you, Sir Guy?”
“I am continuing my studies of popular American culture of the 20th century, Lady Writer . . .”
Haopy Guyday Friday, everyone!