Read Online Emmanuelle by Emmanuelle Arsan - Free Book Online Page A

full of billions of little creatures. The coral tickles your feet. And the sharks come and eat out of your hand.”
    “I’d like to see that!” said Emmanuelle, laughing.
    “They’ll even sing you serenades, if you make love in their territory. During the day, in the sunlight, with the sand massaging you, or in the shade of the sugar palms. You can always find a little boy who’s willing to fan you for a baht while your valiant knight is paying homage to you. And at night, lying on the beach at the edge of the surf, with your back caressed by the tongues of the waves and your eyes protected from the stars by an amorous face—ah, you really appreciate how lucky you are to be a woman!”
    “If I understand you right,” said Emmanuelle, without being scandalized, “that’s the favorite sport in this country.”
    Ariane stared at her with an enigmatic smile and did not answer her immediately. “Tell me, my dear . . .” She stopped short, seemingly working out some mysterious probability.
    Emmanuelle turned to her and laughed. “What would you like me to tell you?”
    Ariane reflected in silence, then she abruptly decided how much confidence the newcomer deserved. Her voice lost the tone of urbane banter that it had kept till now. She gave Emmanuelle a friendly grin.
    “I’m sure,” she said, “that you have a passionate nature. You’re not as prim and proper as you pretend to be. And I’m glad you’re not. To tell you the truth, you interested me right away.”
    Emmanuelle did not quite know what to make of this declaration. Almost in spite of herself, she remained on the defensive. She was more put out than flattered, because she did not like anyone to question her frankness. And what made those girls keep thinking she was a prude? It had made her laugh at first, but now it was beginning to annoy her.
    “Don’t you want to enjoy yourself here?” Ariane went on in a tone that said more than her words.
    “Yes,” said Emmanuelle. She realized that she was venturing onto a dangerous path, but she was even more afraid of being suspected of virtue.
    Ariane’s smile of approval rewarded her only partially. “Then come with me some night, my pet. You can tell your husband you’re having dinner with a group of women. You’ll see what kind of a sewing circle I’ll take you to! You could search forever and a day without finding bolder or more gallant warriors than mine. They’re witty, young, and robust, and they know how to wield their weapons. You have nothing to fear. Will you come?”
    “But you hardly know me,” Emmanuelle said evasively. “Don’t you . . .”
    Ariane shrugged. “I know you well enough! I don’t need to keep you under prolonged observation to know that you’re beautiful enough to stun both men and women. And those I have in mind are experts when it comes to beauty. It would never occur to me to introduce you to them if I weren’t sure of them and of you. So, you see?”
    “And . . .” Emmanuelle hesitated. “What about your husband?”
    Ariane’s laugh was full of frankness. “A good husband likes his wife to be happy.”
    “I don’t know if that will seem so normal to Jean.”
    “Then don’t take him into your confidence,” Ariane said jovially. She suddenly moved closer to Emmanuelle, put her arms around her waist, and hugged her. “Will you swear to tell the truth?”
    Emmanuelle blinked without committing herself too much. The solid, warm breasts against her shoulder unsettled her a little, whether she cared to admit it or not.
    “You won’t go on trying to make me believe that your husband is the only man you’ve ever welcomed into that exciting body of yours, will you? Of course not. Well, have you told him about it every time?”
    Emmanuelle felt tormented. The quest for confessions was beginning again! But what would be the use of defending herself? And why should she try to seem more innocent than she was? She shook her head in answer to Ariane’s