I'm not a murderer, I'm a fisherman

She giggled and fled across the room.

Sweet Snowball chased after her, heedless of the context, only aware they were running and therefore that it was fun play time.

Lyov, wearing an unfairly attractive roguish grin, chased after her.

Isabelle shrieked and sprinted down the room, hoping he would have to stop at the bed and that she could gain the upper hand and therefore extra distance from him to...

She didn't have a goal.

The plan was just to flee like a giggling fool from her amorous husband.

Her husbands were rather enthusiastic about catching up for all the lost time they'd had while she was investigating, it seemed.

Just as she was about to slip away into the next room, she bumped right into the very broad chest of Alexander.

A man who always looked deceptively thin and mild-mannered so long as he had clothes on.

"Oh-" She giggled breathlessly.