Slightly Foxed by Jane Lovering Read Free Book Online Page B

adjustments to my undergarments,
    then went downstairs. Approximately halfway it occurred to
    me that I'd shortened my straps too far. Although this gave
    me a cleavage which looked as though I was peering out from
    behind a couple of boulders, it meant that if I raised my arms
    higher than my waist, my bra would forcibly propel itself
    upwards and out through my neckline.
    "Go and sit in the dining room, Alys. Help yourself to some
    wine, we won't be long." I went through the indicated door
    and found myself in what would have been a nice room if
    every wall hadn't been groaning under the weight of
    photographs, each one featuring a small, fat pony.
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    Slightly Foxed
    by Jane Lovering
    I poured myself some wine from the open bottle on the
    table. A reflection caught my eye in the glass frame of one of
    the photographs. I'd not quite got my hair right and without
    thinking I raised my hands to the back of my head to tweak
    down some curling tendrils around my face. My bra was
    thereby freed from its supporting position at the top of my rib
    cage and relocated halfway up my chest. "Oh shit!" Crouching
    to see my reflection more clearly, I shoved my hand up my T-
    shirt and tried to yank my underwear into a more serviceable
    position.
    "Charlton Thistle."
    I froze guiltily. "I beg your pardon?"
    "Charlton Thistle. The stallion in the picture you're looking
    at. He was my first success."
    I forced my eyes to refocus, away from my reflection and
    onto the picture itself whilst furtively tugging under my shirt.
    "He's very handsome."
    Bugger me, you can say that again , I thought as I turned
    around and saw Theo Wood—Leo Forrester, glass of wine in
    hand, only inches away from me. Close enough for me to see
    that his eyes weren't the deep brown I'd assumed, but a clear
    green, and that he had a tiny scar running from his nose to
    the corner of his mouth. It made his face slightly flawed,
    more perfect.
    "Mmmm. He was a little long in the back for me, but the
    judges seemed to like him."
    A pause followed. He carried on scrutinising the
    photographs while I tried to think of something intelligent to
    say, staring at him fixedly all the time. Without the flattening
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    Slightly Foxed
    by Jane Lovering
    effect of the camera lens, his face was thinner, bones more
    prominent. The whole thing added up to a look which could
    have made a career out of fronting aftershave adverts. The
    pair of rimless, angular glasses he wore only added to the lust
    factor, emphasising those green eyes.
    Come on, Alys, make a move. I'd confronted him so many
    times in fantasies over the past couple of weeks that I should
    have a line ready. But that had been when I thought he was
    dead. Safe. "I'm..." I started, but he'd already begun to
    speak.
    "He only died last year you know. Thirty-three, bloody
    good age for a stallion. Mind you, his dam lived to be twenty-
    eight."
    Now I'd have to wind my introduction back up again.
    "Yes," I agreed without having much of an idea what I was
    agreeing to. "By the way..."
    "Leo. Leo Forrester." He whipped around suddenly and
    grabbed my hand. "Izzie's brother. You're Alys, I understand?
    At Blandburgh with Izzie?"
    Isabelle entered carrying a huge casserole dish and took in
    the scene with wide eyes. Her brother appeared to be holding
    my hand, whilst my underclothing was heaving-to at an angle
    previously only seen on a post-iceberg Titanic.
    "I see you've introduced yourselves," she said indistinctly.
    "Leo, could you go and shout for Ivan?"
    Leo let go of my hand, leaving it tingling slightly and went
    out.
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    Slightly Foxed
    by Jane Lovering
    Isabelle looked sideways at me. "It's nice to see Leo
    talking to someone he doesn't know." She distributed stew
    onto plates around the table. "He's usually terribly shy."
    I turned away and gave one last hoik under my T-shirt. My
    cleavage subsided somewhat, but at least everything was
    now tucked back where it should be. "He seems very sweet,"
    I said,