The Trouble With Moonlight
“James glanced from the map of central Asia on his desk, to the nearby tray containing two glasses of a nice French Bordeaux for toasting their new partnership, to the open doorway of the library. Her trunk, valise, and infernal black cat had all been delivered earlier in the day. He had anticipated that she would wait for the cover of darkness to come to his residence, but it was nigh on midnight without a sight or, he allowed himself a slight smile, scent of her.
Stop that. Thinking of Miss Ha...vershaw as anything more than an assistant could only lead to attachment. Attachment was bound to lead to trouble. He should think of her as a useful instrument, like a pick or a skeleton key, something in his control that he could hold in his hand.
Of course, thoughts of hands led to memories of discovering his invisible assailant was a woman, and an unclothed woman at that. His mind recalled the tactile feel of her breast with a tight bud at the apex thrusting into his palm, begging for the attention of his fingertips.MoreLess
Stop that. Thinking of Miss Ha...vershaw as anything more than an assistant could only lead to attachment. Attachment was bound to lead to trouble. He should think of her as a useful instrument, like a pick or a skeleton key, something in his control that he could hold in his hand.
Of course, thoughts of hands led to memories of discovering his invisible assailant was a woman, and an unclothed woman at that. His mind recalled the tactile feel of her breast with a tight bud at the apex thrusting into his palm, begging for the attention of his fingertips.MoreLess
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