It fit her mood as she sank back in the chair, leg splayed with her trousers down at her ankles. Her breathing deepened, mewling softly with every rag...ed gasp. It was only natural that her eyes drifted over to the picture above the mantle. It wasn’t that she felt anything for the Duke. No, it was perfectly normal for her to seek out the closest thing the room had to a masculine presence. Just a convenient image that might help ease her loneliness. In and out. Slowly now. Deep, almost satisfying. "What do you think, silly?" She chuckled."There's coffee and donuts in the clubhouse, if you want." I gestured inthe general direction."When is it your turn to go on the track?" Judging by the excitement inher voice I wouldn't have been shocked had she bounced up and down on hertoes and clapped her hands."In a bit. I'm in the ?white group,' the old fart group." I wish that you would stop saying that." With a tinge of anger she added,"You're not old." Look around," I said with resignation. "Tell. More

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