For years, other than work, she was my world. I didn’t date, and didn’t want to. Inevitably, I would have compared any woman to Rowan, and it woul... have been hard to find anyone who could have survived the comparison.Rowan was brilliant and creative, a painter whose gallery shows did very well and a poet who was published in major magazines (even, once, The Atlantic); her lightning intuition and gift for seeing things from a different angle from everyone else played very well off my analytical. He put his arm around her and she leaned into him, her cheek resting on his muscular shoulder."Harry, darling," she mumbled thickly, "I'm glad you came to see me."Damn, Durham thought. She thinks I'm her husband. He tugged her uniform shirt out of the waistband of her slacks and reached inside to heft a bra-encased tit-globe."Oh yes Harry. I want you so much she murmured as, to Durham's delight; she began to remove her clothes. Louise Marker was still aroused from the sight of her partner. More

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