Read Online Cheryl Holt by Total Surrender - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Total Surrender
Ads: Link
perpetually craning her neck, searching the crowd for a glimpse of him, but she’d not seen him anywhere.
While she’d never admit as much to another soul, she was fascinated by him and what she’d witnessed, and she was impatient for the chance to ask him: Why? Why did he act so decadently? Why did his physical peccadilloes hold such appeal? What was the attraction?
For some inexplicable reason, she felt as though she’d always known him and could interpret his thought processes, and she’d been left with the overwhelming impression that he hadn’t actually wanted to be engaged in such depraved misdeeds. Deep down, he was a good man; she was certain of it, though why she believed so, or why she might presume to judge, was beyond her ability to explicate.
She perceived an affinity between them that she’d never had with another, and she couldn’t shake the sensation that he didn’t belong at the party any more than she did. Their strange assignation had so thoroughly disordered her world that she was convinced there was a larger purpose behind their meeting, and she refused to go home until she had occasion to explore what it might be.
As she fantasized about Mr. Stevens, her gaze wandered to the sloping green yard where several couples competed at an informal lawn game. They were hitting a ball acrossthe grass with a sort of mallet and aiming for a basket that was located quite a distance away at the base of the hill. She wasn’t sure of the rules, but it seemed that whichever couple landed their ball in the basket with the least amount of strokes was the winner.
Rebecca was one of the participants and, when the contest had begun, she’d invited Sarah to play, but Sarah had declined, and she was relieved that she had. On the surface, the sport seemed harmless enough, with eager contestants and innocuous jesting and wagering over the tough shots, but there were undercurrents to the verbal banter that she didn’t grasp, and a great deal of unusual, intimate touching that would have been disconcerting.
She couldn’t pinpoint what was making her uncomfortable. Perhaps the laughter was a little too familiar, the subtle looks between the partners a tad too prolonged, but whatever it was, there was a strain in their interacting that bothered her.
As the women leaned down and positioned their sticks, the men were constantly nearby, snuggling themselves against the women in order to abet them with their swings. After the episode with Michael Stevens, she recognized how unsettling it was for a man to press himself against a woman’s buttocks. She readily recalled how he’d held her hips and flexed his groin, and she shifted uneasily, relieved that she hadn’t allowed any of the men to act so familiarly.
However, she was striving to be fair about the entire event. So far, she’d witnessed nothing that she would deem downright inappropriate, and she was forced to speculate if this wasn’t how adults related when they were visiting. This was unmistakably a fête for grown-ups. There were no children invited; only men and women who had plenty of leisure time and who required some means of occupying it.
Perhaps she simply didn’t understand the social conventions when a crowd of such people gathered together. Obviously, the standards were a trifle lower, but casting about, she couldn’t help but remember Mr. Steven’s descriptions about the assemblage. He’d contended that the womenwouldn’t be accompanied by their husbands, and apparently, he was correct. While there were many gentlemen present, none were married to any of the ladies.
She endeavored to guess at the number of guests, but tabulation was difficult. Lady Carrington was adept at offering varied amusement, with concurrent merriment occurring, so visitors weren’t convened in the same spot.
Card games were progressing in the house, gambling in some of the backrooms, where even the women were permitted to join in. Outside, there was horseback
While she’d never admit as much to another soul, she was fascinated by him and what she’d witnessed, and she was impatient for the chance to ask him: Why? Why did he act so decadently? Why did his physical peccadilloes hold such appeal? What was the attraction?
For some inexplicable reason, she felt as though she’d always known him and could interpret his thought processes, and she’d been left with the overwhelming impression that he hadn’t actually wanted to be engaged in such depraved misdeeds. Deep down, he was a good man; she was certain of it, though why she believed so, or why she might presume to judge, was beyond her ability to explicate.
She perceived an affinity between them that she’d never had with another, and she couldn’t shake the sensation that he didn’t belong at the party any more than she did. Their strange assignation had so thoroughly disordered her world that she was convinced there was a larger purpose behind their meeting, and she refused to go home until she had occasion to explore what it might be.
As she fantasized about Mr. Stevens, her gaze wandered to the sloping green yard where several couples competed at an informal lawn game. They were hitting a ball acrossthe grass with a sort of mallet and aiming for a basket that was located quite a distance away at the base of the hill. She wasn’t sure of the rules, but it seemed that whichever couple landed their ball in the basket with the least amount of strokes was the winner.
Rebecca was one of the participants and, when the contest had begun, she’d invited Sarah to play, but Sarah had declined, and she was relieved that she had. On the surface, the sport seemed harmless enough, with eager contestants and innocuous jesting and wagering over the tough shots, but there were undercurrents to the verbal banter that she didn’t grasp, and a great deal of unusual, intimate touching that would have been disconcerting.
She couldn’t pinpoint what was making her uncomfortable. Perhaps the laughter was a little too familiar, the subtle looks between the partners a tad too prolonged, but whatever it was, there was a strain in their interacting that bothered her.
As the women leaned down and positioned their sticks, the men were constantly nearby, snuggling themselves against the women in order to abet them with their swings. After the episode with Michael Stevens, she recognized how unsettling it was for a man to press himself against a woman’s buttocks. She readily recalled how he’d held her hips and flexed his groin, and she shifted uneasily, relieved that she hadn’t allowed any of the men to act so familiarly.
However, she was striving to be fair about the entire event. So far, she’d witnessed nothing that she would deem downright inappropriate, and she was forced to speculate if this wasn’t how adults related when they were visiting. This was unmistakably a fête for grown-ups. There were no children invited; only men and women who had plenty of leisure time and who required some means of occupying it.
Perhaps she simply didn’t understand the social conventions when a crowd of such people gathered together. Obviously, the standards were a trifle lower, but casting about, she couldn’t help but remember Mr. Steven’s descriptions about the assemblage. He’d contended that the womenwouldn’t be accompanied by their husbands, and apparently, he was correct. While there were many gentlemen present, none were married to any of the ladies.
She endeavored to guess at the number of guests, but tabulation was difficult. Lady Carrington was adept at offering varied amusement, with concurrent merriment occurring, so visitors weren’t convened in the same spot.
Card games were progressing in the house, gambling in some of the backrooms, where even the women were permitted to join in. Outside, there was horseback
Similar Books
