“She sat up in bed, running her hands up to her temples and massaging the flesh, trying to remember … something, anything. For a moment she felt confused, uncertain as to where she was. Struggling out of the tangle of bedding and leaving the bed, she went to the window, throwing back the wooden shutters to look out on a scene of misty whiteness. Thin streaks of sunbeams speared the pale mist that clung to the tops of the trees. Everything was glistening damply. There was the sound of birds b...ut little else, just above the swirling mist she could see the very blue ocean. Of course, it was Santa Caterina. She was staying with her husband, Conte Mazareeze. The view was so perfect and yet somehow, deep inside her, there was a feeling of — what was it? She sought to describe it — discontent? She shrugged the thought aside; the feeling came from her momentary confusion and nothing more. Turning from the window she saw her cast-off clothing and without thought, she pulled on the jeans and the cashmere sweater.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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