Selfishness. She reeled in excitement, she unzipped his pants while kissing him, trying not to let herself stop touching him as she unclothed him. ‘What are you going to do now, Gerald?’ He sipped his wine and shrugged. The same old lines and verses, over and over, until there had come times when shrieking would have relieved her. Her foster father had been outside for most of the morning, working on trimming the maple trees and mowing the lawn. It was he who saw them first coming down the room—Annabel in a wonderful white satin gown in front, and Sir John stiff, unbending, disapproving, bringing up the rear. You've your own reasons, no doubt, for bringing up her son —perhaps, I ought rather to say your son, Mr.
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