Her lips twist and her cheeks blush, but she goes on. “My father says I need to be a good wife for Arthur. That’s what he’s been preparing me for. That’s why I’m taking tennis lessons. But no one ever tells me what that reallymeans.” She closes her eyes. “You’re a man. I thought…maybe you’d know.”
Shit.
My muscles tighten. My fists clench. This is precisely the situation I didn’t want to get dragged into. And I should just tell her no and force her to get back to returning my serves, but watching her stand there, eyes down, hands behind her back–I just can’t make myself do it.
She’s too alluring. Too sensual. Every second that ticks by is me fighting a losing battle against my lust for her.
Silence passes between us. Finally, she looks up at me, her eyes filled with nothing but trust.
