Naked Ambition Read Online Free PDF Page B

crossing pink stripes across their backs and buttocks from the driving whips that now stood in their rests beside the drivers’ seats.
    One of the front doors opened and a girl came out. Angel had of course heard of The Lodge’s Housegirls but had not seen one before and she had to admit, she did look stunning. The girl was a blonde wearing a long, old fashioned, full length dress in sky blue satin. She was clearly practised in wearing it because she held the full skirt up just enough to allow her to run down the stairs. The very low cut bodice allowed Angel to see the delectable mounds of breastflesh shake and ripple as she did so.
    “Hello, Madam! May I help you at all?” If the girl was startled to see a woman at The Lodge who wasn’t a Housegirl, she hid it well.
    “No, it’s okay thanks. I’m just going to check in,” Angel told her and began to climb the stairs.
    The girl curtsied prettily and went to the ponies. She pushed her way between them and unhitched their reins, then clicking her tongue she backed them up a little. One of the ponies, with black hair, cavilled and tried to wrench her reins from the girl’s hand. Angel was about to put her case down and go and help but saw the girl gather both ponies’ reins into one hand swiftly and skilfully, then use her free hand to deliver three ringing smacks to the skittish pony’s bottom.
    “Settle down Amber!” she scolded and took the reins again, jerking them harshly. The pony settled at once and the girl resumed leading the pair round towards the back of the house, where Angel assumed, the stables were. She was impressed, the girl was obviously not just a pretty face.
    Inside the front door, the illusion of a country house hotel took hold again and Angel looked around the lobby at the golf bags and golf shoes, the fishing rods – the day’s catch laid out on the tiles floor in front of them – a hotel with a very masculine clientele, she corrected herself, and tensing in readiness for whatever reaction she might get she pushed on, opening a further door into the main hall.
    Although it was still only late afternoon, the chandeliers were already lit and across the seeming acres of rich, crimson carpet, the light fell on girls dressed similarly to the one she had already seen as they hurried back and forth carrying trays of drinks to and from the lounges over on her left. To her right she glimpsed through an open door, a large dining room with tables laid with crisp, white, linen cloths. Girls, again in those curious dresses, were busily laying out cutlery and placing glasses on each table. Beyond that door and a couple more, a wide staircase swept up to meet a mirror image one from the other side of the hall at a landing. Portraits of men and women in eighteenth and nineteenth century clothes, stared down from the walls.
    “Can I help you…..Miss Smythe, isn’t it?”
    Angrily Angel realised she’d been standing and gawping like a peasant invited up to the Big House. From behind a desk by the left hand staircase, another Housegirl was smiling over at her.
    Angel went across and wordlessly signed herself in.
    “Thank you,” the girl said, when she had filled in her card. “Room 254, in the East Wing.” She handed across a room key whose fob was a figure of a naked woman, hanging by her wrists, which were joined around the metal of the key ring. Angel couldn’t help smiling at the attention to detail.
    The girl rang a bell.
    “I’ll have your bags taken up to your room. Mr Suarez asked me to say he’ll meet you at dinner, when you’ve had a chance to shower and change. Doctor Sands will come to your room in about an hour and will be pleased to show you around.”
    Another of the Housegirls, a brunette this time whose bodice could hardly contain her breasts, had appeared and picked up her bag.
    “If Madam would follow me?” Again there was no hint of curiosity about a woman guest. The training and discipline was obviously very good.
    They