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"What the hell is that?" Around the house stuff," Isabelle explained to her inquisitiveboyfriend.Emmanuel gave her a lusty stare. He knew that she had never loungedaround in such immodest clothing since she moved in.The next two days followed the same pattern. Emmanuel was aware of thefact that he was being manipulated by her. He felt that she was tootransparent. He also knew, however, that that despite his attempts totrick or coax her into giving in first through gifts and flattery, hisbest efforts were failing.The more he tried to get his mind off her, the more his mind wanderedto fantasies about sex with the girl. His mind only wanted Isabelle asshe strolled around the office on a Thursday dressed in an laced-up,cobalt blue tank top and a white mini-skirt.He winced as she walked into his office and put his cup of coffee down.She lingered as she bent down and made him gaze at her chest before shesat on the edge of his desk and crossed her nude stocking covered legs.Emmanuel's. It was like every night in his life that she hadn't been there was incomplete. The way she smelled, the way her breath whispered out of her barely open lips. The way she curled up against him, how her long sinuous back lay against his chest...It wasn't just the sex, although that had been great.More than great. They'd sat up and talked about ... everything. About her plane crash in the Himalayas, her problems with her father, Ben's time in the marines; how he'd decked his CO and spent almost a year in the brig before being dishonourably discharged. It wasn't like she was the only person in the world he'd slept with, but he could honestly say that he'd never been closer to a person or more intimate then he was last night with Lara.That was what had made Maury's little 'hint' so hard to swallow. From the very beginning, he'd known that hunting down Gunny was a fool's errand, a suicide trip. That was OK; it was a price that Ben had been willing to pay. Up until now, he'd always assumed.
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