There was a heady scent of musky perfume in the air – not unusual for a woman's apartment, but it nevertheless tickled Roger's nostrils, making him quiver with unexplained lightheadedness. He grinned as he sat down on the comfortable couch, thinking of candle-light and old crystal decanters and violins. Hell, there was no use denying it, for all of Kim's apparent shyness, she was a very sensual, very passionate woman. Her modesty was all the more appealing to him, for that meant she wasn't just a promiscuous bitch in heat, but considered the men in her life as important and desirable for their minds and affections as their prowess in bed.

May God! Stop thus kind of lewd thinking! Roger felt ashamed as Kim talked innocently from the kitchen while making the drinks. How wrong he was about her character never entered his head; the setting, the actions the whole web she had designed to lure and capture were too cleverly done; the stage backdrop was authentic, only the woman who starred in the leading role wasn't. Roger chastised himself for harboring lewd thoughts about Kim Copeland's love life – for all he knew she was a virgin. Hell, the next thing he knew, he'd be getting half-way romantic intentions about her, and just because she invited him up for a drink certainly didn't give him the right to entertain overheated and wicked notions. The shock of realizing that he was contemplating what she would be like in bed was enough to scare him…

"I see you made yourself comfortable, Roger," Kim said, walking in from the kitchen with two full glasses. "Slip off your shoes if you want."

"Oh… no, no this is fine," he replied and took the proffered glass. "Mmmm," he said after tasting the gin and tonic.

"You like? I make them strong, because that's the way I like them."

"Excellent, Kim." He looked around the apartment in obvious appreciation. "You certainly have a fine place here."