She cocked her head and looked at me."Are you asking me out on a date, Mr. Lindsy?" she asked, her eyes seeming to get larger. Women had that trick do...n pat."Why, I think I am, Officer Shelton," I replied in my best courtly manner."Tell you what. I go off duty, soon. What say I swing by? We can head to town, and decide what we want on the way," she said."Sounds fine to me. You probably know the best places, anyway," I said.She got back in her car, and was soon out of sight. I got another trash. She was slim and tanned, clad in a pair of shorts and an emerald green bikini top that tantalisingly revealed the tops of her small breasts. Cupid began to get hot and bothered in a way he’d never experienced before. “Can I help you?” She asked and Cupid walked a little further forward, mesmerised by the sight of her. He knew he was staring and forced his eyes away to rest on the book in her lap, his heart skipping a good few beats as he registered the title, Fifty Shades of Grey. He felt his. “Governess?” “Just ‘Adrianna’ will do fine, Arbor.” “I will address you by your title, as will be expected of every citizen here.” Arbor cleared her throat back at me, as if practicing the mannerism, “Shall I have Certiok bring them in?” I looked at the ebony chair, the wood smoothed from over a millennium of existence. How it had stayed intact beneath a pile of rubble for all these years was likely a mystery answered with ‘magic,’ and that made me warry, but it was the history of the thing. There was a reason for the popularity of the bodice ripper genre. She had even read a few herself. Nevertheless, Claire found these sorts of feelings embarrassing, although she had to admit to herself that suppressing them only increased her turmoil. Maybe she should call the number on the card. She could at least try to get some of her questions answered. But it was scary. Receiving such a card was not normal. It could be dangerous. And even scarier was the possibility that she might surrender.
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