Leonie by Elizabeth Adler Read Free Book Online Page B

usually only see them on Sunday evenings.”
    So she was virtually friendless, too. Oh, how could she help her? What should she do? What should she tell her? Caro stared out of the window into the gloom. The street lamps were a pale flickering blur in the swirling flakes and the snow had piled in thick drifts in the courtyard. The street was deserted, even the café on the corner had closed. “I’m afraid you’ll never get home in this, Léonie,” she said, an idea forming in her mind. “It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have kept you talking.” She smiled at her. “But since you are here you’ll stay the night with me—you can be my friend and keep me company. We shall have supper together and I’ll tell you my story.” She laughed gaily. “After all, it’s only fair: you told me yours. We’ll have supper together by the fire, it’ll be fun.”
    Fun! Léonie couldn’t believe it. Is this really happening to me—Léonie Bahri—she asked herself, following the maid into the rose room. The rose room! The bed was a vast, pillowed, fluffy dais lacy and beribboned. She tested it with her hand and then sat or it, bouncing gently up and down; she wanted to burrow into its pillows and soft blankets as warmly pink as summer roses. She noticed the door on the opposite wall and ran to open it. A vast white porcelain tub encased in mahogany sat in the center of the room and she gazed in awe at its splayed brass feet and complicated matching brass taps. It was the first real bathtub she had ever seen—all her bathing had been done in small clammy gray zinc tubs filled from pots of water heated over a stove. You climbed in and sat with your knees under your chin and washed yourself as quickly as possible, but this tub, this looked big enough to wallow in. Tentatively, she felt the cold porcelain, running a finger along the taps. “I’ll run your bath for you, mademoiselle,” said the maid bustling into the room.
    “Oh, no, no, I’ll do it myself,” she protested, turning the gold taps, hot water gushing into the tub. After all, she was hardly a guest here, she was here only because she was trapped by the storm.
    “Madame sent this for you to wear.” The maid arranged the bronze velvet robe on a chair and placed the slippers next to itwith a doubtful glance at Léonie’s feet. “Is there anything else, mademoiselle?” she inquired.
    Léonie stared at her in astonishment. What else could there be?
    “Oh, no. No, thank you.”
    She stripped off her clothes, casting aside the prickly wool chemise and drawers, and stood naked in the warm steamy room gazing at her reflection in the mirrored wall opposite. She only possessed a tiny square mirror; this was the first time she had seen herself naked, all at once, not just in sections. She gazed curiously at her reflection, running her hands over her high round breasts, along the deep smooth line of her waist and the long slope of her thighs, fingering the curled tuft of blond hair. With a shiver she turned to the tub. An enormous bowl of blue-green crystals tempted her and she sniffed them. Tossing an experimental handful into the water, she smiled as the heat released their fragrance. Léonie lay back, stretching her legs, arching her back, soothed by the hot water and smoothed by the oil from the crystals. The sponge was enormous, soft and squishy, and she lathered it with a vast cake of perfumed soap until it foamed. She rubbed it slowly across her breasts, pushing it lightly, around and around until her nipples swelled pink and firm. Filled with a new kind of excitement she stood up and began to soap herself, watching herself, a stranger in a steam-clouded mirror—head flung back, trembling. With a sudden wild cry she flung herself back into the water, rolling around and around in it like a dolphin, laughing out loud.
    Caro handed Léonie a fluted glass and watched as she took her first sip of champagne. The bronze robe suited Léonie’s peachy skin, and her cheeks