’ Leaning down, she raised the hem of the petticoat of her habit to reveal a neat little pair of boots on her feet. ‘Not where we’re going. He devoured her with his eyes too, his shyness not able to disguise his furtive glances at the curvy outline of her breast against the imitation silk, his memory still exquisitely tortured by her movements in the miniskirt. He was not, it seemed, the proper stipendiary at all, and there had been some demur to his jurisdiction that had ruffled him. I wanted you to know. Petals!.
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