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Authors: Sandra Brown
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Mortification caused her eyes to squeeze tightly shut when she recalled the abandon with which she had kissed him back. God! He must be basking in self-satisfaction this morning. Surely he would be very pleased with himself. He could have easily seduced her to . . . No!
Another sob rose in her throat and a tear managed to slide past her closed eyelids and roll down her flushed cheek before she buried her face in the pillow.
How had it happened?
She couldn't defend herself by saying that he had plied her with alcohol, or played on her sympathy, or physically forced her to submit to his kisses. He hadn't even wooed her with loving words. He hadn't said anything. He had merely come to her out of the darkness and touched her and kissed her and she had been more than willing to give him even more than he had demanded.
Miserably, she moaned again with the humiliating recollection of how her naked breasts had been plundered by his greedy mouth. No. His mouth had been neither plundering nor greedy. To add to her abasement, each time her mind conjured up the memory, her body ached again with longing.
She mustn't lie here and dwell on it any longer. It would be better to face him with an aloof attitude. It had been nothing more to him than a naughty game in the dark. She wouldn't let him know that it had meant more than that to her. Getting off the couch, she realized her breasts were still bare. She found her T-shirt behind the sofa after a frantic search.
She crept on silent feet toward the door. Listening thoroughly, she couldn't hear anyone else in the house stirring. She left the study and went into the tiny bathroom she had used the night before. She shuddered with embarrassment when she remembered Lance catching her in that awkward position with her shirt raised. In fact, any thought of Lance Barrett brought on a wave of hot sensations.
"Oh, there you are," Melanie said as Erin came out of the bathroom. Her sister-in-law was standing in the doorway of the study.
"Good morning," Erin mumbled, hoping Melanie wouldn't detect some sign of guilt.
She was behaving like a moron! After all, what had actually happened? A little heavy necking; that's all. People did it all the time. She wasn't a candidate for a scarlet letter. Yet.
"I've come to rescue you," Melanie said mysteriously.
"I've persuaded Mike to let you come upstairs and take a long bath. Then you and I will have breakfast together."
"What about General Barrett? Don't you think he'll consider me AWOL?"
"Maybe he won't find out," Melanie trilled. "He's not here. Come on."
Melanie allowed Erin only enough time to pick up her suitcases in the bathroom, offering to carry the larger one herself, before virtually dragging her upstairs and showing her to the small, but comfortable, guest bedroom.
It was furnished in white wicker which contrasted nicely with the apple green walls. The bedspread and curtains were gaily scattered with a daisy pattern. A green and white striped easy chair was placed at an angle in a corner,
"The bathroom's through that door," Melanie said. "I checked everything, but if I've missed something you need, just call me."
"Thank you, Melanie. It's lovely. Really. I'll be down as quickly as I can."
"Don't hurry on my account," Melanie said.
"I'm not. I'm hurrying on Mr. Barrett's account."
Melanie only giggled before she closed the door and left Erin alone.
The bath was heavenly and she reveled in the hot, bubbly, scented water. She convinced herself that she took no special pains with her appearance this morning, but the results of her efforts made it seem otherwise.
She blew-dry her hair, skillfully wielding the hairbrush to produce a style of artful disarray for her dark curls. She chose a khaki skirt and a cotton plaid blouse in muted shades of blue and burgundy. Her Beene Bag shoes were navy kid with stack wood heels. Her only jewelry besides a tailored gold wristwatch and Bart's diamond ring was a pair of small gold loops in her ears.
Another sob rose in her throat and a tear managed to slide past her closed eyelids and roll down her flushed cheek before she buried her face in the pillow.
How had it happened?
She couldn't defend herself by saying that he had plied her with alcohol, or played on her sympathy, or physically forced her to submit to his kisses. He hadn't even wooed her with loving words. He hadn't said anything. He had merely come to her out of the darkness and touched her and kissed her and she had been more than willing to give him even more than he had demanded.
Miserably, she moaned again with the humiliating recollection of how her naked breasts had been plundered by his greedy mouth. No. His mouth had been neither plundering nor greedy. To add to her abasement, each time her mind conjured up the memory, her body ached again with longing.
She mustn't lie here and dwell on it any longer. It would be better to face him with an aloof attitude. It had been nothing more to him than a naughty game in the dark. She wouldn't let him know that it had meant more than that to her. Getting off the couch, she realized her breasts were still bare. She found her T-shirt behind the sofa after a frantic search.
She crept on silent feet toward the door. Listening thoroughly, she couldn't hear anyone else in the house stirring. She left the study and went into the tiny bathroom she had used the night before. She shuddered with embarrassment when she remembered Lance catching her in that awkward position with her shirt raised. In fact, any thought of Lance Barrett brought on a wave of hot sensations.
"Oh, there you are," Melanie said as Erin came out of the bathroom. Her sister-in-law was standing in the doorway of the study.
"Good morning," Erin mumbled, hoping Melanie wouldn't detect some sign of guilt.
She was behaving like a moron! After all, what had actually happened? A little heavy necking; that's all. People did it all the time. She wasn't a candidate for a scarlet letter. Yet.
"I've come to rescue you," Melanie said mysteriously.
"I've persuaded Mike to let you come upstairs and take a long bath. Then you and I will have breakfast together."
"What about General Barrett? Don't you think he'll consider me AWOL?"
"Maybe he won't find out," Melanie trilled. "He's not here. Come on."
Melanie allowed Erin only enough time to pick up her suitcases in the bathroom, offering to carry the larger one herself, before virtually dragging her upstairs and showing her to the small, but comfortable, guest bedroom.
It was furnished in white wicker which contrasted nicely with the apple green walls. The bedspread and curtains were gaily scattered with a daisy pattern. A green and white striped easy chair was placed at an angle in a corner,
"The bathroom's through that door," Melanie said. "I checked everything, but if I've missed something you need, just call me."
"Thank you, Melanie. It's lovely. Really. I'll be down as quickly as I can."
"Don't hurry on my account," Melanie said.
"I'm not. I'm hurrying on Mr. Barrett's account."
Melanie only giggled before she closed the door and left Erin alone.
The bath was heavenly and she reveled in the hot, bubbly, scented water. She convinced herself that she took no special pains with her appearance this morning, but the results of her efforts made it seem otherwise.
She blew-dry her hair, skillfully wielding the hairbrush to produce a style of artful disarray for her dark curls. She chose a khaki skirt and a cotton plaid blouse in muted shades of blue and burgundy. Her Beene Bag shoes were navy kid with stack wood heels. Her only jewelry besides a tailored gold wristwatch and Bart's diamond ring was a pair of small gold loops in her ears.
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