If she allowed herself to come picturing Andrew, imagining the way their bodies would meld, the way they would make each other feel, it could escape a...d grow. She might find herself saying something inappropriate – or worse, doing it: and the time for that had passed. Clare fought against the thought, distracting herself with her publishing work: there was enough of that to keep her busy. The insistent seductiveness continued unabated all the same. She could feel herself almost ready to melt in. Today was Sunday. Dad must be up making a big breakfast. He loved his Sunday breakfast, the television turned onto a news program, the Sunday New York Times on the counter ready to read while eating.Smiling, Sasha yawned and stretched, curling her feet and toes. They still ached from dance class two days ago. With sudden excitement she wondered if Renpet had responded to her last email. Rolling, she grabbed her iPhone on the bedside table. A few flicks of her thumb and her heart skipped a beat.. More

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