"Colin Greenland - A Passion For Lord Pierrot (2)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Greenland Colin)

inconsiderately. He feels the beating of her heart, that splendid
organ.
Its rhythm betrays only a slight sign of exertion -- or is that
passion,
passion for Lord Pierrot?
'Daphne Dolores,' murmurs Lord Pierrot ardently. 'My love.'
'My darling,' Daphne Dolores replies, in rapture.
Daphne Dolores is slight and becomingly small of stature. She looks up
at
Lord Pierrot and presses the palm of her hand to his breast in a way
that
he finds irresistible. Her blue eyes sparkle in the moonlight. At this
moment he would do anything for her, anything she asked. At this moment
he
would give up his wife, his house, his lands, his laboratories, and
take
her away on a journey to another star, a journey to last a lifetime.
Fortunately, Daphne Dolores does not ask him to do so. She does not ask
him for anything. It is not in her nature to ask for things.
The most she will ever ask him is: 'Are you pleased to see me?'
 Lord Pierrot is inflamed with love for her. He kisses her fiercely,
bearing down on her in his hunger for her lips.
She returns his kiss as avidly as he gives it her, Daphne Dolores.
Thus they remain, a minute or more, as they reckon these things on
Triax.
Then they enter the lodge, and close the door upon the night.
Lord Pierrot bids his darling extinguish the lamp that guided him
across
the lake. He prefers darkness for these meetings. He does not like to
let
Daphne Dolores see his face too clearly, for it will remind her that he
is
old, and remind him too of what she is. She is a young woman, Daphne
Dolores.
She obeys him in this request, as in all things, and returns to him at
once.
Lord Pierrot is solicitous. He pays full attention to the woman in his
arms. He must not waste an instant of her company. He kisses her again,
hungrily, as if he could somehow suck new youth from her mouth.
Daphne Dolores makes a small noise in her throat. Her hand presses the
back of his neck as they kiss.
Her love for him is complete and true. Lord Pierrot knows that of her.
He
knows it so well that he no longer reflects on it. It is not in her
nature
to love a man and afterwards, cease from loving him.
Lord Pierrot rolls up his ruffled sleeves, pushing them back from his
long, slender wrists. His hands are narrow, his fingers taper. He wears
a
ring with a large, square, black stone. He wears it at all times, and