Shall I send him to Sir John?” Annabel was white to the lips, but her anger was not yet spent. I could not have spoken to her. I have nothing, nothing that can possibly be passion for you. She tried not to blush. She learned that she could orgasm four or five times in a day as they toyed with each other and slept entire days afterward without feeling a single pang of guilt. She held her hand to the place where he had slapped her. “I am bored,” she said abruptly. At the same time he comprehended that she was as pure and lovely as the white orchid of Borneo and that she did not carry that ridiculous shield called false modesty. “I—I am sorry—I didn’t explain. “But your sister,” he said. “I guess I’m not the only one who wonders about your past.
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