déjà vu , though most people can’t tell the difference.
If I’m timing my manipulation right, Olivia should be getting ready now. I allow the power of being desired to course through the vision. Every smart woman knows one important fact—you are sexy when you feel sexy. If I can get her to believe in herself half the battle will be done.
Selecting an outfit from the numerous racks, I grab something form-fitting in fire-engine red. I love the way a corset top displays the girls nicely. Pair it with a pencil-thin skirt which falls just below my knees and a red bolero jacket accented with sequined trim to make the ensemble complete. I send a memory of myself in the ensemble to Olivia, with the powerful confidence I experience when I look so damn good.
With my influence she’ll want to wear something red too. Carefully, I insert in her mind an idea of calling the friendly, sexy, innkeeper if she needs to borrow anything. Slipping a robe on my semi-naked self, I belt it and go sit by the phone. It takes about five minutes for her to call.
“Hello, Olivia.”
Her breathless voice greets me on the other end. “How did you know I was calling?”
Damn, I think I freaked her out. Not good.
“Oh, honey, I know lots of things.” I sense her trepidation and rush to smooth things over. “This phone shows the room you’re calling from, and I guessed it was you and not Joanna.” I’m a smooth liar.
She states her request for clothes in a timid voice and I reply with warmth and encouragement.
“Come on down to our suite. I’ve got something dynamite for you to wear.” I give her directions to find me then gently hang up the phone. Projecting reassurance she did the right thing by calling me, I settle back in the chair for her to arrive.
In twenty minutes I’ve got Olivia dressed in a tight v-neck red cashmere sweater with a matching above-the-knee, equally tight cashmere skirt and ballet flats. Where are the corsets and leather you ask? Know your prey and know it well. If I learned anything from seeing Antonio in the lobby, it’s this: Antonio dresses with style and class. He has good taste in clothes and I can guarantee any man who takes such care in his own appearance is going to judge a woman by hers. What he wants behind closed doors is anyone’s guess, but what he wants in public will be a mirror image of his own style.
He’ll want sexy, but he won’t want in-your-face come-and-get-it-while-it’s-hot sexy. There’s a difference. He craves subtle. Antonio needs to notice her and not her clothes, but those clothes should still be fine. He may have been attracted to the cheap type of Elvira style I was wearing earlier in the lobby, but that’s not the style he’d choose for a mate. I bet he hasn’t even figured it out yet. Ah, to be old and wise does have advantages.
The body-hugging knit shows the delectable curves on Olivia guaranteeing every man in the room will notice. If I can judge a man, and damn, after 500 years I sure as hell can, then she’ll have to trust me. Good thing Rafe likes me in anything I wear, because at heart, I’m a chameleon.
I pass on my unasked-for wisdom to the wide-eyed Olivia during her short visit. Cajoling her to confess her heart’s desire, without her discovering I already know it. I offer to share my man-hunting skills with her tomorrow over tea at eleven, which she jumps to accept. She has a good heart and appears to love Antonio. After this, I’ll see if I can get the young vamp up to snuff as well.
For now, I look Olivia deep in the eyes to give her some parting gifts of advice and suggest with a vamp whammy she follow them. Poor thing doesn’t know she has no choice. My sly guidance requests that she arrive in the bar at half past ten, not to dwell on Antonio at all for tonight, and instead, to enjoy the company of the other male guests she’ll meet there. Little does she know what I have planned for her.
She leaves, excited and flushed. She’s going
If I’m timing my manipulation right, Olivia should be getting ready now. I allow the power of being desired to course through the vision. Every smart woman knows one important fact—you are sexy when you feel sexy. If I can get her to believe in herself half the battle will be done.
Selecting an outfit from the numerous racks, I grab something form-fitting in fire-engine red. I love the way a corset top displays the girls nicely. Pair it with a pencil-thin skirt which falls just below my knees and a red bolero jacket accented with sequined trim to make the ensemble complete. I send a memory of myself in the ensemble to Olivia, with the powerful confidence I experience when I look so damn good.
With my influence she’ll want to wear something red too. Carefully, I insert in her mind an idea of calling the friendly, sexy, innkeeper if she needs to borrow anything. Slipping a robe on my semi-naked self, I belt it and go sit by the phone. It takes about five minutes for her to call.
“Hello, Olivia.”
Her breathless voice greets me on the other end. “How did you know I was calling?”
Damn, I think I freaked her out. Not good.
“Oh, honey, I know lots of things.” I sense her trepidation and rush to smooth things over. “This phone shows the room you’re calling from, and I guessed it was you and not Joanna.” I’m a smooth liar.
She states her request for clothes in a timid voice and I reply with warmth and encouragement.
“Come on down to our suite. I’ve got something dynamite for you to wear.” I give her directions to find me then gently hang up the phone. Projecting reassurance she did the right thing by calling me, I settle back in the chair for her to arrive.
In twenty minutes I’ve got Olivia dressed in a tight v-neck red cashmere sweater with a matching above-the-knee, equally tight cashmere skirt and ballet flats. Where are the corsets and leather you ask? Know your prey and know it well. If I learned anything from seeing Antonio in the lobby, it’s this: Antonio dresses with style and class. He has good taste in clothes and I can guarantee any man who takes such care in his own appearance is going to judge a woman by hers. What he wants behind closed doors is anyone’s guess, but what he wants in public will be a mirror image of his own style.
He’ll want sexy, but he won’t want in-your-face come-and-get-it-while-it’s-hot sexy. There’s a difference. He craves subtle. Antonio needs to notice her and not her clothes, but those clothes should still be fine. He may have been attracted to the cheap type of Elvira style I was wearing earlier in the lobby, but that’s not the style he’d choose for a mate. I bet he hasn’t even figured it out yet. Ah, to be old and wise does have advantages.
The body-hugging knit shows the delectable curves on Olivia guaranteeing every man in the room will notice. If I can judge a man, and damn, after 500 years I sure as hell can, then she’ll have to trust me. Good thing Rafe likes me in anything I wear, because at heart, I’m a chameleon.
I pass on my unasked-for wisdom to the wide-eyed Olivia during her short visit. Cajoling her to confess her heart’s desire, without her discovering I already know it. I offer to share my man-hunting skills with her tomorrow over tea at eleven, which she jumps to accept. She has a good heart and appears to love Antonio. After this, I’ll see if I can get the young vamp up to snuff as well.
For now, I look Olivia deep in the eyes to give her some parting gifts of advice and suggest with a vamp whammy she follow them. Poor thing doesn’t know she has no choice. My sly guidance requests that she arrive in the bar at half past ten, not to dwell on Antonio at all for tonight, and instead, to enjoy the company of the other male guests she’ll meet there. Little does she know what I have planned for her.
She leaves, excited and flushed. She’s going
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