"You have to wear the apron though."Terry looked down, he was wearing shorts and T-Shirts and shrugged. "I'll be fine," he muttered and Sandy smiled."... think she means, she wants you to wear it," Sandy replied and Terry gave a wry smile and left the room."Shall we get dressed?" Grace asked and Sandy nodded."Yeah," she muttered and, for the first time since Grace had known her, got up and put clothes on for breakfast. Grace was used to seeing Sandy naked, or with just a dressing gown or pyjamas. And yet she didn't want it any less. And she wanted it with him. Her cross to bear. Her sins of the flesh. She should be wearing a hair shirt.She should be flagellating herself like the nuns in the convent to remind herthat her body was weak and she was more powerless than most. Ah, but she could never have envisioned this . Him.Them. She ought never to have come here seeking refuge. And now she didn't knowhow she could ever leave. He came to her anyway, after a night of carousing and flirting. More

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