Romance · Thriller

The Insignificance of Being a Spy by Suzy Stewart Dubot

She was facing away as they approached. By her stance, her head tilted a little to one side, it was easy to see that she was listening to her neighbour, a pleasant, plump young woman. For those men preferring a bit of flesh, he could see the plump woman’s appeal. Her roundness exuded a joie de vivre, a love of life, often associated with stout people.
Caroline addressed both women by their first names before presenting them to Marcus.
As Arabella Wentworth turned to face them, Marcus drew in a sharp breath which he tried to camouflage with a slight cough. Mrs Wentworth was nothing short of spectacular, and it had nothing to do with the paucity of his sexual activity. She had stunned him at first glance, and he was now incapable of uttering a solitary word of greeting. Thank goodness the other woman spoke up before he could stutter or stammer, or make a complete fool of himself in any other way. It was with the utmost difficulty that he was able to tear his eyes away from her angelic countenance.
Pale flaxen-coloured hair complimented her ivory skin, deep blue eyes, and soft pink lips. The intricate hairstyle with tiny plaits and twists of locks suggested she was far from simple herself. Involuntarily his eyes took in the roundness of her breasts, put to advantage by the low cut of her midnight blue gown. He glanced at her face and saw one blonde strand of hair which curled with guile before one ear. A slight flush of heat rose to his face and a rush of blood to his groin as he wondered if that unusual colour of hair were to be found on the more intimate parts of her body.
“Excuse me just a moment. There is something I forgot…”
Marcus left the three women staring at his back as he wended his way through the crowd. He hoped he had left before any of them could detect the embarrassing bulge in his trousers. What was wrong with him? There was always a first time for everything, but it worried him to have lost his self-control because of a woman.
He eclipsed into a corridor and opened the first door that he came to. It appeared to be a small sitting room with only the fire in the hearth for light. Perfect. He would wait out his rampant libido until he was in charge again.

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