The rough-hewn muscles of his shoulders and chest rippled beneath his peasant shirt, and balanced with Doric grace on the sinewy pillars of his hips a...d legs, camouflaged in loose brown trousers tied at the waist. Rachel noticed how blond his hair looked, after many hours of basking in the sun. It was as golden as his skin was brown, it fell carelessly in long ringlets around his face, and she wanted to touch it. But what drew her more than that were his lips, thick and red, curved up in a. He would at least like to let her know that he didn't blame her for the way things had turned out. She had no way of knowing what Jean was really like or that she would turn nympho overnight. Flow could she possibly know if even her own husband didn't. He paid the waiter for the coffee and stepped out of the hotel to hail a taxi clutching the address of the hotel in his hand. The hall porter had said it wasn't too far away but had had a funny expression on his face when he mentioned the. More

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