As he walked out into the North Carolina sunshine, Lola's hand in his, a smile curved one corner of his lips. Not so long ago, he'd stood on the burned-out bridge of the Dora Mae, thinking himself cursed with a beautiful underwear model and her sissy little dog. He'd always believed Lola Carlyle would be the death of him. "We never did get around to watching Pride and Prejudice," she said, a teasing glint in her beautiful eyes. Yeah, she would most definitely be the death of him, but what a way to go.
