Voyeur - Lacey Alexander [56]
Get back to work, she told herself. Riley and Sloane had just had spectacular orgasms beneath one of the pear trees in the garden—and not only that, but Sloane had, while still lying prone atop Riley, spotted something shiny in a rosebush a few yards away, and they’d discovered it to be Mr. Dorchester’s gold cuff links!
As Riley pulled her top back into place, she said, “I didn’t know Mr. D.’s cuff links were even among the missing items.”
Sloane lifted his gaze from the links to her face, looking rumpled and sexy from their romp in the grass. “Neither did I.”
“Does this mean we’re now finding stolen items even your aunt and uncle don’t yet know about?”
Five minutes later, after straightening their clothes and exchanging a few last kisses, Riley and Sloane walked hand in hand back up the path, through the spacious backyard and into the Dorchesters’ house. Riley would have enjoyed more cuddling time with Sloane, but the truth was, she didn’t know where this was leading. Sloane was only in town temporarily, until the mystery was solved, so perhaps it was wise not to get too attached. For Riley, sex had always been part of a healthy relationship, so this was something new . . . and potentially frightening. She could only hope the affair wouldn’t leave her too emotionally scarred.
“Aunt Winifred,” Sloane addressed his aunt when they found her in the front parlor, “we need to talk to you for a minute,”
“Well, sit down, you two, and let’s chat. Any new clues?”
“Yes,” Sloane replied, opening his palm to reveal the gold links. “These. We found them in . . .” He glanced over at Riley. They’d not yet told anyone about discovering the garden, although they’d never discussed why. Riley couldn’t help thinking it had started to seem like their own special place, though neither had used such words to describe it. Finally, Sloane went on. “We found them in a garden, back on the grounds beyond the vegetable patch. Someplace I’d never seen before. A beautiful little garden with a wall of high shrubbery around it.”
Mrs. Dorchester’s face flushed noticeably.“Oh my.Well then, I guess now you know our little secret.”
Riley leaned forward slightly. “Little secret?”
Mrs. D. shifted her glance back and forth between them, then spoke confidingly. “Many years ago, when Mr. Dorchester and I were young, we . . . well, we wished to have a private place, all our own. Oh, I know what you’re thinking—we have this lovely house and the rest of the estate, yet . . .” She stopped, sighed. “Sloane, you may be surprised to hear this, but your uncle Howard was one romantic devil when we were first wed. And what with the servants and other visitors running hither and thither around this house, well . . . he wanted us to have our own private sanctuary, someplace we could be alone without . . . well, without fear of interruptions, if you know what I mean. That garden was our private love nest for many years, and I’ll tell you another secret, too. Had God ever blessed us with children, that’s probably where the blessing would have taken place.”
Both Sloane and Riley flinched. Sometimes when Mrs. D. got on a roll, she forgot to shut up, and this seemed to be one of those times.
“We had many a romantic interlude there, and I remember one particular time,” she went on, starting to say more—until Sloane held up his hand.
“Aunt Winnie, stop. Too much information.”
The older woman covered her mouth with her hand and giggled. “Oh me, I suppose I did get a bit carried away with myself, didn’t I?”
Neither answered, and Sloane said, “Do you, uh, still go back there with Uncle Howard?” Riley could feel the wheels turning in Sloane’s head—he didn’t want to find out they’d all been rolling around in the same grass, and neither did she.
“Oh no, not for a long while now,” she said, and Riley mentally wiped her brow.
“But you still keep the garden the same