Genre fiction lover: Romance, Sci Fi, Fantasy, Mystery, Urban Fantasy
"Would you like to see my...sketches?" She asked it with eyes downcast, peering flirtatiously up at him through her lashes.
Was he being propositioned in a crowded salon? Did she intend to lure him up to her chamber? Did he mind?
"Show me your sketches, Lady Blankenship," he said softly with a smile reserved for innuendo.
She instantly reached down behind the settee behind her and produced, to his astonishment, a sketchbook and handed it to him.
"Go on," she urged on a whisper. "Tell me what you think."
She'd clasped her hands in front of her, then brought them nervously up to her mouth. Her big eyes liquid with nervous anticipation.
What on earth would he find in it?...He hoped he'd find nudes and was at the same time rather worried he would. He opened her sketchbook furtively. He turned the first page up by one corner, took a peek. And then he turned it all the way over.
He stared for a good long time at the first drawing.
She nearly bounced on her toes awaiting his verdict.
"Yes?" She said breathlessly.
"This is a kitten. In a basket."
She nodded eagerly.
"This is a sketch of a kitten in a basket."
A fluffy, big-eye kitten was sitting neatly in a round basket, paws draped over the edge.
"Do you like it?" Millicent was practically nibbling on her knuckles with nerves.
"It is a kitten in a basket," He pointed out slowly. As if this were answer enough.
"Look at the next one." She urged excitedly.
He gingerly turned the page. He stared.
"It's...kittens playing with a yarn ball." Something like hysteria tinged his voice.
He slowly turned the pages, one by one. One by one. Kittens playing with a string. Kittens lapping milk. Kittens sniffing flowers....
He sighed, handed the sketchbook back to her, and to her astonishment promptly abandoned her and wended his way through the crowd.