Robin Schone by Gabriel's Woman (10 ebook reader TXT) 📕

she secretly admired the fullness of her lips and the softness of her skin?

Had her vanity been so obvious?

Your breasts .. . the provocative masculine voice urged.

The pale, slender hand in the mirror slowly descended, trailing down a sharp chin, a corded throat, a

pulsing indentation. Warm hair blanketed the backs of the woman’s fingers.

Underneath the cover of dark hair, callused skin cupped a round breast. It was soft and plump as the

rest of Victoria was not.

A nipple peeked through the cup of her hand and the blanket of tangled hair: a dusky dark rosebud.

It did not feel like a rosebud.

It was hard. Tiny bumps—like goose bumps—pebbled it. On the very tip there was a slight depression.

Before the letters Victoria had never looked at her naked body, had never touched herself save through

a washcloth.

Had never recognized the sensuality that had been lying dormant beneath her plain wool dresses, waiting

for her to acknowledge it.

Now the silver-eyed, silver-haired man had read the letters. And he knew . . .

You want what every woman secretly yearns for.

But she didn’t want to want.

To be kissed.

To be fondled.

To be suckled.

She didn’t want to ache.

She didn’t want to hunger...

For the warmth of a touch.

For the union of penetration.

She didn’t want to ache and hunger for a man’s fingers ... a man’s penis ... a man’s tongue.

Victoria pivoted, hand dropping, hair flying.

The last six months she had squatted over a chipped chamber pot; the luxury of sitting on a smooth

wooden toilet seat was a pleasant diversion.

It reminded her of the conveniences she had once taken for granted and the comforts she had been

cheated of.

Of the comforts that she might never know again.

Gone.

Everything was gone.

Her china trinkets. The freshwater pearl necklace; the coral earrings she had never dared wear. The

engraved silver watch that had been a gift from her first employer. Her clothes.

The room that stank of poverty and despair.

Rent was due and she could not pay it. By now someone else would have rented it.

Would they receive the letters intended for Victoria?

Would they read them and yearn for more, as Victoria had yearned?

Victoria reached for the box of tissues behind her.

The cistern flushed with a small gurgle instead of the clamoring belch of the more outdated plumbing her

previous employers had utilized.

Her drawers were still damp, her future still undecided.

She could return to bed, or she could get dressed.

She could pretend to be Gabriel’s guest... or she could be the prisoner she knew that she was.

Her choice . . .

The combination bath and shower beckoned to her.

Victoria tried to remember the last time she had acted for no other reason than for her pleasure.

She could not.

As a child, she had been afraid of her father, fearing he would revile her. And he had.

As a governess, she had been afraid of her employers, fearing they would dismiss her. And they had.

Now she was neither a child nor a governess: she was a woman on her own. Victoria had nothing left to

lose.

Neither a father’s love nor an employer’s salary.

Determinedly she padded across the cold tile floor.

Six brass cocks lined the satinwood panel on the combination bath and shower. They were plainly

marked “Hot,” “Cold,” “Supply to Bath,” “Needle Spray,” “Liver Spray” and “Shower.”

Heart in her throat, Victoria turned the “Shower” cock.

Nothing happened.

Quickly, she closed the cock. Had she brok en it?

Long seconds passed before reason prevailed.

Tentatively she opened the “Cold” cock.

The resulting roar of cascading water did not come from the copper bathtub spout—Victoria tentatively

peered underneath the copper hood—nor did it come from the large, round, perforated copper disk above.

A small thermometer above the six copper cocks caught her attention.

It dawned on her that the cold water was going into a mixing chamber.

She opened the hot water cock.

The thermometer instantly registered an increase in temperature. Beside the thermometer, a meter

gauged the fullness of the mixing chamber. One quarter full, two quarters full, three quarters full... Full.

Victoria hastily closed the hot and cold water cocks.

Excitement quickened her blood.

There was no lock on the bathroom door. The thought did not dampen her excitement.

Stepping into the copper tub—toes curling at the icy metal—she cautiously walked underneath the

copper hood.

Immediately, Victoria was enclosed front, sides and overhead—it was like stepping into a copper grotto.

Two smaller copper disks on either side of her were bent downward—they were hip high. A copper pipe

blended into each of the four corners; they were perforated top to bottom.

A copper-skinned woman mirrored Victoria’s movements—head turning when Victoria’s head turned,

breasts thrusting forward when Victoria’s breasts thrust forward, arm raising . ..

Victoria opened the “Needle” cock.

Instantly, warm water assaulted her—breasts, buttocks, left hip, right ankle, face, stomach, back. There

was no place on her body that the water jetting through the four perforated pipes did not target.

Her hair stuck to her shoulders and her spine; steam filled her lungs.

She turned off the “Needle” cock—the water immediately stopped. Daringly she opened the “Shower”

cock.

And was immediately rained upon.

Victoria had never felt anything like it. The force of the water pounding down on her head and shoulders

both stung and caressed.

It was like being caught naked in a summer shower.

She instinctively turned into the rain and the heat.

A recessed copper shelf contained a bar of soap and a bottle of— Victoria investigated—shampoo. The

labeling was blurred by steam. She recognized the soap