Dasha did not know how to start conversing with Desmond when they were back in their house, having supper. After their steamy union in the horse stable, she was mortified. His eyes never left her flaming cheeks.
“Why are you not talking to me?” Desmond observed, with mocking eyes. He was seated right across from her at the dining table upstairs, where it was close to their bedroom and overlooking the garden.
The familiar beautiful night view of the fountain and pond was actually relaxing and enthralling. Her eyes were glued to the scenery behind him instead of her husband.
“I… I don’t know what to say,” she spoke honestly.
“I wonder why you were so brave earlier, and now, you shy away,” he teased and drank the fresh orange juice. His eyes were passed his glass, looking at her.
At the
