A LADY'S PLEASURE EXCERPT ...

“I fantasize about what it is like to kiss. Not the small peck that I give and receive from my family and friends. But a real kiss ... like they do in my books. With their ... tongues.” Before she could lose her courage, Abigal blurted, “Do men and women really kiss that way, Colonel Coally?”

“Sometimes. What else do you fantasize about, Miss Abigail?”

Abigail transferred the journal to her left hand and scooted sideways across the mattress so that her back rested against the iron headboard. The sole of her right foot brushed against wool—and a muscular leg.

Heat shot up her calf.

She curled her foot underneath her skirt. “I ... fantasize about what a man looks like. I mean ... I have little nephews and I ... have changed their nappies. They are ... not really very impressive. Yet in the books they describe a man as being ... much larger. There. Are men as large in real life as they are in books?”

It could have been the intake of his breath that she heard. Or perhaps it was hers. Because suddenly she realized exactly what it was that she had grabbed in the darkness, all silky sinew with pulsing veins.

And yes, it had been very large indeed.

“Some men are large, some men are small.” The voice in the dark deepened. “Just as some women have large breasts, and some have small. Is it important to you?”

“Yes,” she said softly, wondering what or even if he had thought about her breasts during that fleeting touch, wondering how large were his measurements, wondering if all men were his size. Then she laughed self-consciously, embarrassed yet strangely exhilarated at discussing a man’s anatomy. “I mean—I suppose it would not matter as long as a man can give a woman satisfaction. Is it possible, Colonel Coally? Can a man give a woman satisfaction?”

“Do you doubt it, Miss Abigail?”

“Oh, yes, Colonel Coally. Every time I look at one of my pomaded, bewhiskered brothers-in-law I doubt it. I try to imagine them kissing with their tongue or—or touching a woman’s breast or—or kissing a woman between her legs, and, quite frankly, I cannot. I cannot imagine them doing any of the things I read about. I cannot even imagine them begetting their own children. They have fat bottoms, Colonel Coally. I simply cannot imagine those fat bottoms pistoning up and down.”

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