vistas of the English countryside soothed her, but this evening they had no effect. If anything, their portrayal of stone walls and meadows reminded her of what she had left in Vermont.
The opposite richly paneled wall was hung with a large contemporary storm scape. On each side of the painting was a doorway. The doorway to the right was Charles’s dressing room, and beyond that, his private bath. The doorway on the other side led to the dressing room that housed Lauren’s wardrobe, her vanity, and her accessories closet. Her private bath, a mirror image of Charles’s, lay just beyond the upholstered chaise at the back of the dressing room.
Lauren walked into her dressing room, set her purse on the chaise, and went into the white marble bathroom. She sighed. This would be hers for real, she thought, in just a few short weeks. She started the water flowing into the deep marble tub and shed her clothing. One wall of the bathroom was mirrored, and she stared at herself as if she expected to see something different. She was not tall, but her waist and neck were long, and she curved in all the right places. She looked the same, but Lauren did not feel the same at all. She ran her hands over her breasts and down over her hips, turning her thoughts inward trying to relive the fleeting rapture of the night before. She could feel Caleb’s touch on her bare skin. Her thighs tingled with the memory of his caresses, and her face flushed.
Lauren turned away from the mirror and stepped into the warm tub, submersing herself in the water. She took the soap and lathered herself, but try as she might, she could not wash away the memory of her stay in New England. Those tactile feelings remained…his hands, his mouth, his skin. They were imbedded in her body, into her very soul. She had never been touched like that, either physically or emotionally. Consciously, she sought to bury the train of thought. I will just have to live with it, she thought. I will just have to learn to live with it. I can’t risk all this. I’ve worked hard, and I can’t risk what I’ve accomplished.
Lauren stepped out of the tub and toweled off, then wrapped her fluffy white robe around her. She went into her dressing room, rummaging through her clothes, trying to find something pretty, yet comfortable, in which to greet Charles. Suddenly she felt as though she had been away for a lifetime, but it had only been two nights. She finally decided on wide-legged, black silk pants and a simple white top, cut low over the bosom. She scuffed her feet into black silk slippers and wandered out to the study.
The study was Lauren’s favorite room. Unlike the other rooms, it was small and paneled with dark wood. Three walls were bookcases, ceiling to floor, even around the window, which had diamond shaped leaded panes. A small Japanese screen, decorated with a geisha scene, hung over the fireplace. The mantel was deep and held a beautiful old porcelain clock and a bronze statue of two lovers caught in an amorous embrace. A full bar was hidden behind a sliding panel near the fireplace. Lauren walked across the deep, soft Oriental rug to help herself to a gin and tonic.
“I would have gotten that for you,” said Dennis from the doorway. He carried in a small silver tray of different hors d’oeuvres and set them down on the butler’s table by the sofa.
“Oh, Dennis,” said Lauren, “thank you so much. Those look heavenly.”
“I think Tina is trying some new things,” he said. “I hope you like them. Dinner will be at eight, when Charles gets home. Is there anything you need, Lauren? Are you feeling well? You don’t seem quite yourself.”
“Oh, I’m fine, Dennis.” Lauren forced a smile. He was always so solicitous of her, she thought gratefully, as if he knew, as if he knew her vulnerabilities. “I think I’m just tired. You know, dealing with those people up there in the countryside. It’s so frustrating. I guess they don’t care about what goes
The opposite richly paneled wall was hung with a large contemporary storm scape. On each side of the painting was a doorway. The doorway to the right was Charles’s dressing room, and beyond that, his private bath. The doorway on the other side led to the dressing room that housed Lauren’s wardrobe, her vanity, and her accessories closet. Her private bath, a mirror image of Charles’s, lay just beyond the upholstered chaise at the back of the dressing room.
Lauren walked into her dressing room, set her purse on the chaise, and went into the white marble bathroom. She sighed. This would be hers for real, she thought, in just a few short weeks. She started the water flowing into the deep marble tub and shed her clothing. One wall of the bathroom was mirrored, and she stared at herself as if she expected to see something different. She was not tall, but her waist and neck were long, and she curved in all the right places. She looked the same, but Lauren did not feel the same at all. She ran her hands over her breasts and down over her hips, turning her thoughts inward trying to relive the fleeting rapture of the night before. She could feel Caleb’s touch on her bare skin. Her thighs tingled with the memory of his caresses, and her face flushed.
Lauren turned away from the mirror and stepped into the warm tub, submersing herself in the water. She took the soap and lathered herself, but try as she might, she could not wash away the memory of her stay in New England. Those tactile feelings remained…his hands, his mouth, his skin. They were imbedded in her body, into her very soul. She had never been touched like that, either physically or emotionally. Consciously, she sought to bury the train of thought. I will just have to live with it, she thought. I will just have to learn to live with it. I can’t risk all this. I’ve worked hard, and I can’t risk what I’ve accomplished.
Lauren stepped out of the tub and toweled off, then wrapped her fluffy white robe around her. She went into her dressing room, rummaging through her clothes, trying to find something pretty, yet comfortable, in which to greet Charles. Suddenly she felt as though she had been away for a lifetime, but it had only been two nights. She finally decided on wide-legged, black silk pants and a simple white top, cut low over the bosom. She scuffed her feet into black silk slippers and wandered out to the study.
The study was Lauren’s favorite room. Unlike the other rooms, it was small and paneled with dark wood. Three walls were bookcases, ceiling to floor, even around the window, which had diamond shaped leaded panes. A small Japanese screen, decorated with a geisha scene, hung over the fireplace. The mantel was deep and held a beautiful old porcelain clock and a bronze statue of two lovers caught in an amorous embrace. A full bar was hidden behind a sliding panel near the fireplace. Lauren walked across the deep, soft Oriental rug to help herself to a gin and tonic.
“I would have gotten that for you,” said Dennis from the doorway. He carried in a small silver tray of different hors d’oeuvres and set them down on the butler’s table by the sofa.
“Oh, Dennis,” said Lauren, “thank you so much. Those look heavenly.”
“I think Tina is trying some new things,” he said. “I hope you like them. Dinner will be at eight, when Charles gets home. Is there anything you need, Lauren? Are you feeling well? You don’t seem quite yourself.”
“Oh, I’m fine, Dennis.” Lauren forced a smile. He was always so solicitous of her, she thought gratefully, as if he knew, as if he knew her vulnerabilities. “I think I’m just tired. You know, dealing with those people up there in the countryside. It’s so frustrating. I guess they don’t care about what goes
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