She needed to recalibrate from the eroticism of having his hands in her hair. Her heart rate was unsteady, and her breath shallow and unsatisfying. She made short work of opening another bottle of wine. Not that they had finished the one from earlier; she could still see it outside in the wine bucket filled with what was now water. She poured herself a cold glass, and took a gulp. Better. Much better. Being a little thriftier than the Walkers, she retrieved the half-drunk bottle from outside and put it back in the fridge for later. After another sip of wine and a few deep breaths, she leaned her shoulder against the glass front of the house, looking out to the pool. What was she doing here, really? What had seemed like the right thing to do in the car had suddenly plunged her out of her depth, a feeling so alien to her it was beginning to worm its way into her stomach. She wasn’t used to this kind of society, this kind of luxury, or these kinds of clothes. And definitely not the glittering, beautiful diamond ring.
