Longing

“I’m so glad to have the cast off,” Karen gushed as she and Jay exited the private surgery.

“I will miss not buttering your toast for you, cutting your ham…” he trailed off playfully.

She laughed. “You’re not yet off the hook, Lord Ravenscar!” she waved her pale arm, recently freed from the plaster. “It’s still a little weak.”

“That’s fine.” Pause. “But soon you will have to accept that I just want to undress you for the carnal pleasure, not assist in unzipping your clothes,” he murmured as he held opened a door for her.

Karen entered the pharmacy with an open jaw and rosy cheeks.

She also blushed at the memory of that statement and several similar ones as she stepped out of the chauffeur-driven Bentley.

“Thank you, Benson,” she said to the man who opened the door for her before going to fetch her luggage from the trunk of the car.

“Go ahead, Karen I’ll put your stuff inside. I’m sure Prado and Uffizi are dying to see you.”