Chapter 32
He overslept yet again – the victim of fevered nightmares – and woke a sodden sweaty mess between the unstarched sheets in his rented bed. He wiped his neck with the corner of one of them, then squinted into the sunlight, trying to gauge the hour. He felt as exhausted as if he had been running all night.
He was also extremely aroused. Disgusted, he looked down at the evidence of his preoccupation. After years at sea and years of controlling his urges between discreet visits to a certain lady in Gibraltar he thought such wakings were long in the past, something for younger men. But his brain was again a mass of urges and fantasies and obsessions. And they were let loose in his dreams with an explosion of colour and smell, feeling and taste.
“Kate,” he said aloud. He thought of
