The heroine, who was admired, fêted and pursued by men, the heroine who was finally united with the hero and kissed as the Senhora had been.
Then, horrified by her own thoughts, Shikara sat up in bed.
Surely she could not be thinking such things? And yet it was not only her thoughts which were out of control, her body was filled with sensations that she had never before known existed.
It was soft and yielding in a way that it had never been before and her lips trembled because she wanted to be kissed.
“I must be going mad!” Shikara cried out aloud.
When she lay down again, all she could see was the Marquis, the cynical smile on his lips and that look in his eyes that had been there when he talked with the Senhora.
‘He has never looked at me like that,’ Shikara thought despairingly.
