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Chapter 16

Was I actually being kept? Kept in that more profound, more sinister, more disturbing sense? I considered the point. I had, in fact, never seen anyone but Anatole, and I had heard only one set of footsteps above at any time. And it was a house.

I thought of the sensation of the man’s wrist, of the five o’clock shadow he always seemed to sport. I thought too of the man’s physical size, his solidity, and—I paused as I felt a strong wash of arousal.

After noticing this for a while, I tentatively returned to the initial idea—that I was being keptby Anatole, in that special way. And thisonly caused an increasein the pleasurable sense of arousal.

“Oh, my!” I murmured.

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