dn-6933a maidenhood lost (e z make)

Author:Unknown
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2012-08-02T13:54:36+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

The department store had never seemed so oppressive in the eight years Marta Winter had worked there. Never had the prim and proper air she forced herself to maintain seemed so difficult. Monday was a minute-by-minute torture. And Tuesday was sheer hell.

And to make matters worse, Mitch Mason was gone. Business in two other towns had called him away for the week. She tried to rationalize away what had happened Saturday as a moment of indiscretion. That had lasted all of Sunday. By Monday the aching need within her body forced her to admit the truth — Mitch Mason was one hell of a man and she wanted more of him.

She tried to bury herself in her work and forget what had happened Saturday night in the backyard. It had worked for eight years. But it failed miserably this time. As she showed a new, sexy evening dress to a customer, her thoughts were on how she would look in that dress and bow Mitch would react. Even at home when her eyes drifted to the backyard, she remembered.

By Wednesday everything she saw or touched reminded her of Mitch. She cursed herself. She tried to lose her thoughts in a good book or the offerings of television. Nothing helped.

The cold shower she tried when she arrived home Wednesday evening relieved the tensions a bit. But that quickly evaporated when Neal came in from work and announced Kari and he had a date for hamburgers and a movie.

It took a half-hour under another cold shower to push the vision of Neal and Kari making love from her mind. Afterwards she bundled herself in the softness of a terry-cloth robe and settled down on the couch with the television blaring and the latest copy of a news magazine that had arrived in the mail that morning, neither of which interested her much.

Deciding it was a good night to go to bed early, she pushed away from the sofa and walked to the kitchen for a glass of milk. As she extracted a carton from the refrigerator, the door bell rang. Tightly drawing the belt of her robe around her waist, Marta walked to the door and opened it just enough to peer out. Mitch Mason stood on the other side, grinning and with a bottle of wine in one hand.

“Mitch?” she muttered in disbelief. “I thought you wouldn’t be back until Friday?”

“The problems that came up weren’t as big as they sounded over the phone,” he smiled. “All they needed was a bit of the old Mitch Mason touch. Hey, aren’t you going to invite me in?”

“I’ve just got a robe on,” she answered, flustered by her happiness at finding the man at her door and her disappointment at not appearing at her best for him.

“I’ll go back to the house and get my robe, if it’ll make you feel more comfortable,” he chuckled.

“Don’t be silly,” she smiled, opening the door for him.

“Beautiful,” he mused, as his eyes roved over the dark-haired woman.

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