The Reclining Lady

by Harriet Fitzherbert

Genres: Erotic & Steamy Romance

Synopsis

After Rachel's Aunt Maggie dies, she has problems getting a fair price for the woman's collection of antiques, until art curator Hannah steps in. With her red hair and figure to die for, Hannah is just Rachel's type - and the attraction is mutual. Among Aunt Maggie's possessions, Hannah finds a long-lost sketch of a reclining nude by Irish artist Jack Yeats. The picture could make Rachel's fortune - but meeting valuation expert Simon creates a whole new set of temptations, both in business and pleasure. How far will Rachel go to get the best deal?

Release date: April 12, 2012

Publisher: Headline

Print pages: 31

Sample

The Reclining Lady
By Harriet Fitzherbert



I stood alone in the scullery amidst the squalor and gazed across the stable yard towards the loose boxes where Aunt Maggie had kept her old cob, Joxer. The stable door swinging in the wind took me back to 2003.

It had been an idyllic summer and I was in love for the very first time. The object of my affection was Michael. Together we spent the long, languid days roaming the fields and country lanes talking about life; exercising Joxer on the hillside gallop; sharing our dreams as we stood on the riverbank trying to entice reluctant fish to take our bait just like I was trying to encourage Michael to take me.

I was spending my holidays with Aunt Maggie in the West Country before starting art college in September. Michael was a local boy who had gained a place at Bristol University, but for the summer he was helping Maggie feed and exercise Joxer.

I was 18 and, unlike many of my friends, still a virgin. From the time we spent together I could tell that Michael had never been intimate with a girl. He was a tall, skinny, gentle boy with fair hair turning to blond, who acted mature and free-spirited but struggled to communicate his feelings, his innocence, and his anxieties.

I stumbled from day to day wishing that some force would physically draw us together and when it became apparent that was not going to happen I was unsure how to precipitate it. The sap was rising in my blossoming body and I wanted him to make love to me before we went our separate ways. On a number of occasions I tried to steer the discussion towards sex but met with no success as he always blushed and changed the subject – though I could not help but notice that when I mentioned such things there was an ever-growing bulge in his trousers.

Every night I touched myself in forbidden places and pondered how I could seduce him. The sexual tension between us at times was so intense that it seemed to pervade the air like an expensive French perfume. My heart and mind told me it was what we both wanted but I feared rejection so I never plucked up the courage to make the first move.

As the long summer days passed and autumn beckoned I caught Michael staring at me more and more when he thought I was not looking. I sensed that the . . .