‘I have some guests I have to tend to anyway. I have neglected them for a while,’ he said smiling. Damon took his place in front of her, and right...then the music changed to a sensual rumba piece. He saw her uneasiness and smiled teasing her. ‘So, this is the girl you really are. Roaming around the house half drunk, inviting men up to your room while your fiancé is looking for you,’ he said locking his gaze with hers. ‘Alex is not my fiancé. And the only man I’ve invited to my room is you,’ she. The farmer's wife, who was still lying quite numb on the iron roster above the dung pit. Shaking almost invisibly, her layers of white flesh acting as shock berakers on the cold hard steel. Harry's kinky revenge fantasy - that revived every time he thought about what the farmer's wife had done to him for weeks, without retaliation - was kindled when he looked at her, lying there on a roster. He had taken a bunch of candles from a cupboard in the farmhouse and had turned the farmer's wife on her. More

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