“Damien Mann smiled to himself. Nicola, he observed, had the kind of face you wouldn’t mind looking up at you from around the vicinity of your thighs. Johnny could pick ‘em all right. Nice plump cheeks and a funny little bump in her nose. Trendy little glasses. Her shoulder-length, auburn hair was like something out of one of them shampoo commercials. Her body felt soft and vulnerable through the thin sheath of her silk blouse. The blouse was open at the neck, revealing a smooth, honey-coloured ...decolletage. Her nipples made bumps like cherry stones against the shimmery silver fabric. Great pinnage too, he thought, checking out her legs. With delicacy surprising in a man of his powerful build, he lowered his face to her neck and breathed in her scent. Babydoll, thought Mann, smiling to himself. Yves St Laurent. He had an excellent nose for perfume. The night wasn’t turning out that badly after all. ‘Full name?’ ‘Nicola Biondi.’ ‘Spelled?’ Mann had carried Nicola down to the security room of Bent Towers.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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