Red Velvet (Silk Stocking Inn #1) by Tess Oliver & Anna Hart

Author:Tess Oliver & Anna Hart [Oliver, Tess]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sugartree Press
Published: 2016-04-04T04:00:00+00:00

Maybe I would stay on just one more night.

Chapter 12

A bit lightheaded and more than a little frustrated, I turned away from the very hot man on the roof and headed off on my walk. I hiked down the path that led along the bushes with tiny tubular flowers that I quickly deduced were the honeysuckles Coco had mentioned.

Beads of perspiration rolled between my cleavage as I meandered along the gravelly path. Just as my hostess had promised, butterflies were dancing along the tops of feathery flowers and several hummingbirds were taking turns sipping sweetness from red flowers. I’d always loved nature and being outdoors, but I’d never taken the time to learn much about it, like flower and butterfly names. That had always been my sister, Leti’s, hobby.

I, on the other hand, had always been the down to business girl, the don’t waste time knowing anything that won’t push you higher up the corporate ladder type. Now I’d made it to the second rung from the top, but, somehow, that achievement hadn’t been nearly as fulfilling as I’d hoped. Instead, it’d made me realize that there was more to life than just success in business.

A hammer sounded back at the house. I glanced back and saw the shabby, slate gray shingle roof of the Silk Stocking Inn loom in the distance. It was the only building or sign of civilization in my sight radius. Willowy trees and stretches of wildflowers made it seem as if I’d landed in the middle of my computer screensaver, the meadow that I’d downloaded for when the day got stressful and I needed to drift off for a few minutes. In fact, it was remarkably similar to my computer wallpaper. Almost uncannily so, just like the mix of fragrance that I’d experienced in the kitchen when Grayson had walked inside. None of this could actually be happening and yet it was. I was standing in the middle of my screensaver meadow still reeling from the tenderness in my pussy wrought by the man who I’d dreamt up in my description. It was him. Grayson was him—my tall, dark and a pleasure in bed.

If nothing else, the weekend might prove to be the most fascinating and mystifying of my life.

I headed across the meadow and came to a rusted iron gazebo, like one you’d see in the finely manicured garden of a century old estate. It was a surprising feature in the middle of an otherwise wild and untamed landscape.

Once I reached the ramshackle structure, I found that it had been fashioned with plush cushioned benches and a small table. I wished, suddenly, for a good book and glass of wine. I glanced back toward the path. I was far from the house and could no longer hear the hammer. The outline of the inn was hidden by tall trees.

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