Well, if you insist…
No, I probably should not be doing this. I do not have enough material that I can pass it around all willy nilly, but I have a friend out there who just loves reading this stuff. And I love writing it so she can..
This is a snippet of a scene that I worked on yesterday and today. It isn’t the whole scene, but I still hope you enjoy it. Of course, to add to the fun, here is a picture to brighten your day.
Soon, the two were deeply involved in planning. And as they plotted and planned, a shadowy figure latched on to the psychic energy of Helena Billings just before it winked into nothingness and her shields were fully back in place. This was the presence that Lord Milne felt, though he could not know it.
Stroking the Ocelot lounging upon the settee next to her, she smiled as the predator just rumbled in pleasure. “I have found them, my pet. And with the children, I can find the mother.”
“Why do you talk to that infernal cat, Mistress? He cannot answer. I can answer. Why not speak to me?” Peter glared at the beautiful cat, now rumbling in warning as his words changed the atmosphere of the room. Why did she prefer the cat?
“I was talking to you. Foolish boy! Why I put up with you is the better question.”
Ah! And here, he knew he had her at a disadvantage. “You put up with me because of my natural… charms. Tell me again, Mistress. Why do you want to find this woman?”
“She has something I want.”
Peter knew he was getting to close to dangerous territory, but he never had known when to stop. It maddened others, and often landed him in trouble. And still, he pushed on. “Something you want, Mistress? Or something you want for the Crown?”
Turning to look at the boy, her breath catching in her throat at his youthful beauty, she said, “perhaps you are not so foolish after all, child.”
“Mistress, were I a fool, you would have discarded me after one night. Never suffer a fool. Is that not what you told me?” Shifting his position so that the silken sheets fell away, Peter beckoned her closer with the twitch of a finger. He might call her Mistress, but within the confines of this room, she was free of all expectations except those of a pleasure unlike any she had ever known.
Closing the connection in the scrying mirror and tossing it upon her cluttered dressing table, Lady Claire moved across the thick rug covering the stone floor of her dark bedroom to join Peter upon the silk and fur covered bed. As his skilled fingers played across the satin of her skin, all thoughts of the artifact faded.