Are you sure, m’lady?” Damien stammered.Eliana glared at the slave, as if daring him to comment further.“It’s just ... M’lady ... Lady Ingri...’s parties have a rather ... unsavory reputation.” Damien pushed on haltingly while sneaking glances at the countess to judge her mood.Damien was right, and Eliana almost decided against going to the party. Countess Ingrid Eorten was perhaps the only noblewoman who did not look down on Eliana. Her husband was also a merchant, and was often away on. "I don't need any sass from the likes of YOU!" said Frank, his voice rising. "Mrs ... Fetterman ... has been kind enough not to press charges against you. You're off the case and that's final!"Bob looked at Lacey, who was looking at him again, through lowered lashes."Tell Simpson about the orgasm," he said. "It's important."Frank leapt to his feet, outrage on his face. "THAT'S IT!" he screamed. "YOU'RE THROUGH! PACK YOUR FUC..." He stopped and went suddenly white. Bob ached to see his eyes roll. More

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