The fact that I was in a hospital bed with a phenominal headache didn't matter. She was pissed and the only thing that mattered was that she had to ma...e sure I knew that and that I was going to do whatever was necessary to make her feel better. Well, I wasn't in the mood. "Apparently, I'm gonna live. Otherwise, you wouldn't be such a bitch right now. Although that's debatable, I guess."That set her back a step. "You're right. I'm sorry. I'm just so worried and angry right now!" Notice how she. But nevertheless, here she was, handed to a man by another man – pushed to give him pleasure in order to save her husband; the husband whose life was right now in the hands of the man renting her out."Renting me out," she murmured. Then she sighed a long and fluttering sigh.Juliana sat up straight. The storm abated; it was replaced by an eerie calm. She rose and straightened her dress. It was a scandalous dress, but it was also beautiful. She wondered why she'd fled. What was the point? Was she. .. ?" We did, as a matter of fact," I said. "Jill and I were talking about it when you went to Toronto..." Barbara owns a series of ... boutiques; I guess you could call them ... They're all over the country; Miami, New York, Chicago, Las Vegas, Los Angeles. She sells high-end clothes to women who have lots of money and the physical attributes to wear those clothes well. I mean the kind of stuff you wouldn't dare wear with a bra and panties. You know; a dress with the back so low you moon every. I swam a few laps in the cool clear waters before I heard a voice from the balcony above ask "Are you a Covington? or a Pye?" She was an older woman, perhaps 40, with flaming red hair, something that was quite common in our family. I knew she was not one of my aunts, so I assumed that she must be a cousin.I stopped swimming, and stood looking at her a confused manner. She repeated the question. Again, I was confused, but replied: "I'm both, a Covington and a Pye. My name's Matt.