He got the reaction he wanted, as my lower lip began to tremble. Heobviously needed no encouragement, as he spat again and again, withincreasing force...at my face, covering it with spittle. He looked acrossat my friend, who responded with a weak laugh and then got off my handsand, having called me a "bitch", wandered off. As the weight was liftedfrom my hands, it felt like whatever had kept my heart pressed shut hadbeen released, and the tears began to flow. I headed to the toilets toclean. But I saw Pamela's face light up and when I sawwhat she was looking at I understood.Adonis walked toward us.Wasn't his name but that was how I thought of him. He was putting acrested helmet on a side-table because he was in uniform. Red jacket,cummerbund, breeches moulded to powerful thighs. Saber at his side hecut quite the figure. Broad shoulders above a trim waist, shortishblonde hair for a Georgian. But the face...gleaming blue eyes, square-jawed and about perfectly symettrical. He. More

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