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Description

The stiletto heels clicked along the Roman Marble floor. She loved that sound. She loved everything about this moment. The hilltop mansion had a spectacular view of the mountains above and valley below. A mild haze partially obscured the distant mountains and tamed the usually aggressive sun. This was perfection.

That morning Pat had dressed provocatively, as usual. She slid on her shiny pantyhose and relished the cool slickness as they wrapped her thighs and pelvis. Then the deeply cut slip with spaghetti straps. All but invisible under her tailored jacket. It revealed her cleavage to below her breastbone. Then the mini-skirt. Nearly as high as possible. The uniformed security guards would run their eyes up and down her legs with barely disguised longing. She relished the looks, knowing that they would have to vent their frustration elsewhere. She was the object of desire. She was in control.

And, the plan was working. Just this morning, Saint-John Smythe had pulled her aside to ask silly questions about the security detail. She almost had him alone, but a busybody secretary has rushed in with some papers and spoiled the moment. No matter. The trip was scheduled to last another week. Plenty of time to close the deal.

Pat scanned the courtyard. It was her job after all. As usual, nothing. Wait. Is that a shoe sticking out from behind a column? Someone hiding?

"Come out. I've got a gun." Sure it wasn't Italian. But the tone and meaning were perfectly clear.

Slowly a figure slid out from behind the column. Dressed in black from her neck to her toes. Perhaps the woman didn't speak English, perhaps she didn't care. The crossbow was leveled right at Pat. Instinctively Pat pulled the trigger.

Nothing.

Desperately Pat pulled the slide not realizing that she had forgotten the safety. But just as she let go of the slide, she heard the snap of the crossbow strings hitting the stops...

Description

The stiletto heels clicked along the Roman Marble floor. She loved that sound. She loved everything about this moment. The hilltop mansion had a spectacular view of the mountains above and valley below. A mild haze partially obscured the distant mountains and tamed the usually aggressive sun. This was perfection.

That morning Pat had dressed provocatively, as usual. She slid on her shiny pantyhose and relished the cool slickness as they wrapped her thighs and pelvis. Then the deeply cut slip with spaghetti straps. All but invisible under her tailored jacket. It revealed her cleavage to below her breastbone. Then the mini-skirt. Nearly as high as possible. The uniformed security guards would run their eyes up and down her legs with barely disguised longing. She relished the looks, knowing that they would have to vent their frustration elsewhere. She was the object of desire. She was in control.

And, the plan was working. Just this morning, Saint-John Smythe had pulled her aside to ask silly questions about the security detail. She almost had him alone, but a busybody secretary has rushed in with some papers and spoiled the moment. No matter. The trip was scheduled to last another week. Plenty of time to close the deal.

Pat scanned the courtyard. It was her job after all. As usual, nothing. Wait. Is that a shoe sticking out from behind a column? Someone hiding?

"Come out. I've got a gun." Sure it wasn't Italian. But the tone and meaning were perfectly clear.

Slowly a figure slid out from behind the column. Dressed in black from her neck to her toes. Perhaps the woman didn't speak English, perhaps she didn't care. The crossbow was leveled right at Pat. Instinctively Pat pulled the trigger.

Nothing.

Desperately Pat pulled the slide not realizing that she had forgotten the safety. But just as she let go of the slide, she heard the snap of the crossbow strings hitting the stops...