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“Genevieve's fan slipped from her grasp. Perhaps she'd been having a quiet laugh at his expense and it had jostled from her grip. When she bent over to retrieve it, her bodice gapped, affording him a startlingly view of almost 'all' of two deliciously round, pale breasts. It was such a sensual shock the breath went out of him. It was all the more erotic because he knew he was the only one who could see it, and because she didn't know that he could, and because they were both in the midst of a crowd. He was a man. He gulped down the view for the duration of its offering, which was cruelly brief. And then Genevieve was upright again, and regret washed him. Miss Oversham didn't seem to notice his infinitesimal distraction.” — Julie Anne Long
Genevieve's fan slipped from her grasp. Perhaps she'd been having a quiet laugh at his expense and it had jostled from her grip. When she bent over to retrieve it, her bodice gapped, affording him a startlingly view of almost 'all' of two deliciously round, pale breasts.
It was such a sensual shock the breath went out of him.
It was all the more erotic because he knew he was the only one who could see it, and because she didn't know that he could, and because they were both in the midst of a crowd.
He was a man. He gulped down the view for the duration of its offering, which was cruelly brief. And then Genevieve was upright again, and regret washed him.
Miss Oversham didn't seem to notice his infinitesimal distraction.