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Chapter 30
Body And Soul
Gay Head Cliffs, Martha's Vineyard
October 1883
A crash of thunder woke her. Kytra glanced out
the window and in a flash of lightning, saw Ransom standing on the edge of the
cliff in a violent rainstorm.
He stood naked, his muscular legs apart
and arms outstretched, his head thrown back, receiving the rain fully onto his
face and over his body.
His hair clung in a slick, yellow steak
down his back. His wet body glistened outlines of his muscles in brief light
flashes as a swirling black firmament roared around him.
Kytra pulled on her bed slippers and a
coat over her nightgown, and unlatched the door. It blew open with a cold spray
of rain, knocking her back into the room.
Unable to pull it closed after her, she
left it, swinging at the mercy of the storm, scattering rain inside the house.
“Ransom!” Kytra called to him, but she
could barely hear herself and knew he did not hear her at all. She pushed
against the furious rain until she stood next to him. But, when she opened her
mouth to speak, Kytra found herself unable to say anything, to do anything, but
to stop and to stare at him.
In the downpour, Ransom was worshipping
his Creator of Creation. She could only gaze upon his magnificence as he
worshipped in his own way.
His spirit and his body merged into one
perfectly molded sculpture of raw emotion. Wet, naked, passionate, Ransom was
the most beautiful work of art Kytra had ever seen. She sank, shivering, onto
the icy wet rock, next to his feet and watched the rain stream rivulets along
each line of his taut muscles, before dripping onto her.
The long black braid down her back grew
heavy with water. Stray hair hung in wet clumps about her drenched face.
Kytra’s coat was soaked as was her gown underneath. Rain filled her slippers.
Looking up at him, her eyelids batted the
onslaught of cold rain.
She did not know to what god he extended
himself in humble nakedness and shameless spirit. She did not know what sacred
image his heart and soul reached out to in silent communion. She had no idea
what holy meditation kept him still and powerful on the edge of the cliff in
the rain.
But, whatever was sacred to him, Kytra
knew only that her love for Ransom was sacred to her.
Her Secret Life - a novel by Ginie Sayles
Copyright
(c) 2010 Ginie Sayles All Rights Reserved
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