The small predator subconsciously acknowledged the larger one. She had not nursed Leonardo for weeks for nothing. They walked two by two to the car, looking the part of 267 two weary spouses supporting their drunken mates after an all-night bender. Gosse had moved forward, his pistol arm out straight, his aim true, the gun cocked. ‘What else do you expect? It’s the penalty you pay for marrying an Englishman. "It is too late. 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. ‘Too late by the time I realised to what a dunderhead I’d pledged my friendship.
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