Chapter Three
“More coffee?” Cicely asked.
“No, I don’t want any more coffee,” Tanya snapped at her. The past three weeks had been fruitless and frustrating for her, and her temper was badly frayed. None of her usual ploys were working and the supply of wealthy men looking for a mistress in the area seemed to have dried up. Maybe it was just a string of bad luck, but it had her worried. Every morning she inspected herself in minute detail in the mirror, first her face for any sign or hint of wrinkles, then her body for any trace of crepe or sag. Every morning, she passed that inspection. In fact, thanks to a diet and exercise regimen that had been suggested to her by an older woman she’d met recently, she thought that she’d never looked better. So why were no men rising to her bait? It w
