“Come forward, Velvet. Stand over here please,” he requested. Velvet took a deep breath and lifted her foot to take her first step. Her head felt light all of a sudden and her feet could barely feel the varnished wood of the floor beneath her as she moved towards him. “Stop there,” Ryan instructed. “Turn around, slowly, until you are facing the window.” Velvet's breathing deepened. She began by turning her head, then her hips and finally her feet as she moved around. She saw the window and stopped, her back now facing him as he sat, looking on. She could sense his eyes tracing from the tips of her shoe heels, up the back of her stocking seams and over her pencil skirt. She heard the leather of the sofa shift as Ryan stood. He moved towards her, not saying anything, the heels of his shoes echoing softly in the sporadically furnished drawing room. He came to a stop just inches behind her. She became aware of the warmth of his body and felt her own tense slightly. “Why did you choose. Get the overshoes."Willie answered by revving the engine."And where did you get those ridiculous driving gloves? Look how delicate they are on you. I think you accidentally bought ladies gloves, you idiot! They don't fit you and look a little swishy. I wish you wouldn't wear them."Silence filled the air; finally Willie Malter pulled off the gloves. Mrs. Malter sighed in relief before stalking off to the hair salon, mumbling under her breath. Willie drove on aimlessly, vainly seeking to recapture the Contessa's pursuit. It was no good though. The noisy city traffic distracted him. Seeking quiet, he turned on to a side street and approached a hospital zone. ..."Doctor! It's the billionaire banker -- Edward McIntyre," said Nurse Wendy Malter. "Hurry! He's beginning to blue-line!" A frazzled-looking desk nurse turned to the pretty young blonde and answered: "Wendy, what will we do? Doctor Benbow and Remington are in the ER and Doctor Pritchard is in the middle of an operation!".
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