Loretta had been sitting in an armchair in my studio, sipping coffee and idly leafing through a book on Gustav Klimt. She smiled at me as if to say that her kissing Ulrich was a bit of harmless fun – not that I minded. Indian XXX How are you?”
“Great, I’m running a little late today, I’m sorry.”
“Oh, forget it. She stood up and came close, seemingly to protect me from view but I held her back gently; her face, framed against the surging sea, was divinely beautiful – a goddess with wet lips. So it was with a mixed mindset that I introduced him to Loretta. I still had no idea what the problem between these two cousins was, but I could tell that it had worsened in the weeks since Loretta had come to stay. I could not tell. In the time since we had returned from lunch she had relaxed and seemed calm and content. Leaning against the flat black rock face she smiled and as I stood next to her, she gripped my shoulder and looked me in the eye. She nodded silently and followed my instructions to the letter.
