Her body still trembling, she slowly rose and retraced her way down the dimly lit passage. The lamp she had placed in the closet had been a good idea. It led her toward her room and the secret panel that opened into the closet.
Once back in the relative security of the bedroom, she hastily dislodged Michael's shoe and pulled the panel closed, then replaced the lamp on the night table near the bed.
It all seemed dreamlike now. The passage, Bryan, Paula, and Kate and the man who had taken her, all of them a dream. But the still quivering mouth of her love mound told her it had been real. She shivered again, unsure whether the reaction was one of relief or excitement.
In a daze, she stumbled into the bathroom and quickly turned the knobs of the shower full blast. The water was like tiny fingers massaging her, bringing her back to reality and at the same time soothing and relaxing her.
Feeling refreshed, but definitely tired, she toweled herself dry and climbed into the cushiony softness of the over-sized bed to wait for her husband, wondering what she would tell him.
She tried to sort the events out in her mind, but with little success.
The more she thought about the incident the more embarrassing it was to her.
Like most women, she had thought about rape. The thought of some man, one she knew and was attracted to, forcing her into sex had always been exciting. But that wasnt rape, just an erotic fantasy.
Rape was brutal, degrading, with no thought of pleasure, only the humiliation of the woman. Rapists were mentally sick people who were out to punish women. People who thought sex was dirty and degraded their victims by forcing them into sex.
But the man in the passage had been nothing like that.
He had been more like a lover. He had known what a woman wanted and had given it to her. He had worried about her pleasure as well as his own.
She shivered again. This time there was no doubt in her mind, it had been excitement. Not something she would want to happen every day, but definitely exciting.
Yet, she felt used. She didn't even know the man that had taken her.
She hadn't seen his face. He had taken the advantage of her position and used her to expel his lust.
Who was he?
What will I tell Michael?
The questions echoed over and over in her mind as the comforting security of sleep slowly crept over her, leaving the answers lost in the darkness.
Chapter 7
Diana rolled over in the bed. Her long, graceful arms reached out to hold her husband. But only found emptiness on his side of the bed.
She pushed her sleep-laden eyes open and stared beside her. Michael's side had been slept in, but it was empty now. She quickly glanced around the room. Her husband was gone.
"Hrmph!" she snorted out loud. "Not much of a way to treat your bride on the second night of your marriage!"
Then she remembered the man in the passage and was grateful that her husband hadn't awakened her.
It's passed now. Let it be. There's no reason that Michael needs to know. Not now at least. He's upset enough as it is, at having had to make this trip to his family's home. I'll tell him later, when we're away from here. Later…maybe…
She rolled to her back and stretched. It would be nice to have Michael now. He's good in the morning. Hell, he's good any time!
She smiled and pulled his pillow to her and hugged it. She could detect the slight smell of him. She shivered, wishing the pillow was her husband, imagining she was holding him close while he was atop her.
No! Forget it! she scolded herself. No reason to get yourself hot and bothered. Michael's not here!
Groaning with disappointment, she tossed the imaginary Michael-pillow back to the other side of the bed, gave it a loving pat, then swung herself out of the bed. After a few moments in the bathroom, tending to the regular morningly duties, she came back into the bedroom and selected a pair of burgandy hip huggers and a cream-colored blouse from the suitcase. Not sure how the Hightowers would take to the braless look, she also pulled out one of those thin, very sheer, nylon bras, that did little more than keep her nipples from poking out under her blouse. Her breasts were still firm, even without a bra; they did little more than jiggle around pleasantly.
Quickly stepping into her casual, but attractive, clothes, she glanced longingly at the empty and unused bed once more, then made her way downstairs.
The mansion seemed deserted. She made a quick check of the room she had been in the night before, but could find no one, let alone her husband.
Deciding that if she had been left to fend on her own, she'd do something about the growing hunger in her stomach. After all, it was time for breakfast.
With little difficulty-she did make two wrong turns that led her to the den-Diana located the hall leading to the kitchen.
"Good morning," Lorraine cheerfully greeted her as she swung the door into the kitchen. "Sleep well?"