She should have tried to dry her hair, or at least comb it. She hastily ran her hands through the wet strands, pushing it out of her face and back. Th... guard looked at her, smiled as he looked away, and then glanced again. She smiled back at him, one of her devilish grins. She knew she was gorgeous, it was a weapon she used more often than not. The guard stuttered a bit as he spoke, obviously nervous. “C-can I help you?” he asked sheepishly. Ah, she loved it when men were weak. It made her job. I made arrangements for his wardrobe, created a menu for the chef at the rental manor, reviewed his calendar for the next six weeks — rescheduling any of the appointments or meetings he had made for those four weeks – and still had time to stare wistfully at the picture of my dreams. When I was a little girl I had dreamed of living in France, in a place very much like this manor. It had all seemed so magical and so beautiful, an escape from the world I lived in. Everything about their culture. More

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