“He was going to enjoy pressing his little scheming hostess into improprieties she'd not soon forget. He didn't need a storm to make his point; he had his own powers of persuasion-and he'd use them all on her.He led her to the library, to the table holding the sherry. "Will you do the honors?" He leaned forward and added in a low voice, "Or perhaps you'd like us to do it together-your hand under mine, your fingers wrapped around the neck of the decanter as we-"Color flooded her cheeks, and she said in a breathless voice, "I will be glad to pour us some sherry-though I'm surprised you wish for some more.""It is wretched, but your cook has ruined my palate.When I return to London, I won't know good port from bad, burned meat from raw, and don't begin to talk to me about soups.”

Karen Hawkins

Karen Hawkins - “He was going to enjoy pressing his...” 1

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