Monica could hear the sound of cars rushing by outside, the call of gulls. There was a cup of coffee in front of her on the desk, untouched. Mr Scott ...leared his throat. ‘I assume you know why you’re here.’ Her mouth formed a thin line. ‘Conflict of interest?’ The image on the email attachment loomed large in her memory. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to work out who ‘John Smith’ was, or why he’d sent it. Business, not personal, Rupert had said, as if he was Charles’ consigliere. She’d have. It was such a direct dirty and electrifying question that all I could reply was a gasp, and I just could not even shy away from him. I felt heat raising through me and escape out of my mouth in a moan. Uncle got a chuckle out for that and with draw, he pulled his shirt and pants off revealing him in just an underwear. He then laid on my side and put a bare leg over mine. I turned my face towards him and gave him a big smile. He looked straight into my eyes and asked, “Do you know why I gave you. More

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