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"The medicine he takes tires him out early," she explained. "He tried hard to stay up for you, but his eyes shut themselves."

"I'll just look in on him," I said and went to the door of his bedroom.

He would always look tiny and fragile in his king-size bed, I mused, but I thought that, at least tonight, he had gone to sleep with healthier color in his face. I made up my mind I would try to spend more time with him and help his recovery along. It would take my mind off my own problems.

I read and listened to the radio in my suite and then I tried to go to sleep, but when I put out the lights and closed my eyes, all I could think about was Tony putting his hands on my naked body, his fingers traveling up and over my breasts, his eyes shut tight, but the eyeballs moving nervously beneath the lids, looking like two tiny round animals searching for a way out.

What would it be like tomorrow?

When I awoke the next morning, I dressed and went quickly to my mother's suite, but she had her bedroom door shut tight. I knocked gently.

"Momma? I have to talk to you this morning," I whispered through the door. I waited, but there was no response. "Momma?" I raised my voice and waited. Still, there was no response. Frustrated, but

determined to speak with her about my experience at the cottage, I opened the door, only to confront an untouched bed. Shocked and surprised, I hurried from her rooms and down to the dining room, where I found Tony reading the Wall Street Journal and having his coffee.

"Where's my mother?" I asked. "It doesn't look like she slept in her bed last night."

"She didn't," he said nonchalantly and turned the page. "Well, where was she?" I demanded. He lowered the paper, a look of annoyance on his face. He wasn't annoyed with me; he was annoyed with her.

"She phoned around eleven to tell me that she and her girlfriends had decided to spend the night in Boston. I had to send Miles to her hotel to bring her clothes for today."

"But . . . when is she coming home?"

He shrugged.

"Your guess is as good as mine. Probably better than mine." His eyes cut sharply toward me. Then he nodded toward Curtis, who had been standing in the corner like a statue, and asked him to bring in our breakfast.

I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to go back to the cottage without first talking about it with my mother, but she wasn't here and Tony was anxious to get started.

"Why don't you just put on one of your loose cotton shifts this morning," he suggested. "It will make things easier if you don't wear anything else," he added. "It's very warm today."

Nothing else? No panties, no bra, nothing but my cotton shift? He saw the look on my face.

"Just to be practical," he added. I nodded. After breakfast I went up to my suite and did as he suggested. Contrary to what he had told me, I didn't feel less nervous this morning, even though it was to be my second session. He was just as animated as the day before when we walked through the maze to the cottage, maybe even

more so. He set things up quickly and this time did not ease me into it.

"Today we paint," he announced. "Ready?"

I looked at the windows. All had their shades drawn down, but he had opened them a few inches so that there would be a breeze. I looked back at him, his face filled with anticipation. I was tempted to run out of the cottage. My lips began to tremble.

"What's wrong?" he asked, seeing ray concern.

"I just feel ."

"You poor thing. I'm just rushing onward without considering your feelings. I'm sorry, Leigh," he said and took me in his arms. "I know this isn't the easiest thing for you because it's such a new experience, but we did so well together yesterday, I just thought you were over your initial shyness.

"Now just take a deep breath," he said, "and think about the wonderful thing we're doing together, okay?"

I closed my eyes and took the deep breath, but my heart was pounding so, I felt faint. He felt my trembling.

"Here," he said, "you know what? You don't have to stand right away. I can start with you lying on the couch."

"On the couch?"

"Yes. I'll help you. Just keep your eyes closed. Go on," he encouraged. I did so. "Relax. That's it. Easy," he said and I felt his fingers take hold of my loose cotton shift just below the waist. He lifted it slowly, gently. "Raise your arms, please," he whispered. I did so and the shift came up over my head, rising softly, as softly as it would had a delicate and tender breeze been lifting it. I kept my eyes closed even after Tony brought it past my raised hands. He put it aside and then took my shoulders and softly guided me to the couch.

"Lie there. Make yourself comfortable," he said.

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