Page 65 of Diagnosis Attraction

Matt pulled into the long drive and headed for the parking spaces at the front of The Mansion. There were only a couple of cars already on site, and he was glad there wouldn’t be too many civilians to deal with.

He got out, straightened his jacket, and walked confidently to the front door where he rang the bell.

After a few seconds, a nice-looking middle-aged woman opened the door. She was the woman he’d seen through the window when they’d been here the day before. Tonight she was wearing a beaded black dress and stylish pumps. She tipped her head to the side as she stared at him, obviously wondering who he was and how he’d got there.

“May I help you?”

“Mrs. Vivian?”

“Yes,” she answered cautiously.

“I’m a friend of Harry’s. He highly recommended this place if I wanted some relaxation.”

“Harry who?”

“Harry,” he repeated as he projected silent messages toward her.I’m a friend of Harry’s. You trust Harry, and you trust me. You’re so happy to have a new customer. You’re glad Harry referred me. Let me in.

He saw Mrs. Vivian wavering and poured on the reassuring messages.

“Come in,” she finally said.

He stepped into the front hall that was furnished with expensive-looking antiques. The hostess led him from there into an opulently furnished parlor. The rug on the polished wood floor was a palace-sized Oriental. The tables and chests were classic period pieces, and the sofas and chairs were comfortably modern.

“Harry told you our fees?” Mrs. Vivian murmured.

“Yes.”

“You pay in advance.”

“That’s fine.”

Five young women wearing negligees much like the one Elizabeth had donned were standing at one side of the room. They had been in various relaxed poses. When they saw him,they straightened, all of them arching their backs so that their breasts were thrust toward him.

So how did guys behave when they got here? Did they take some time to relax, or did they get right to business. Too bad he didn’t have any experience with high-class bordellos. Or sex for hire, come to that.

He walked toward them, pretending he was trying to decide which one he wanted to screw.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t just take all of them upstairs with him and disappear out the back way.

“What are your names?” he asked, stalling for time until he knew Elizabeth had gotten the first group out of the house.

They answered in turn, their English much like Sabrina’s.

“Blossom.”

“Daphne.”

“Tara.”

“Belinda.”

“Jasmine.”

“And what are you particularly good at?”

All of them flushed, but they began to name various sexual activities.

Upstairs, Elizabeth waited in the hall. She’d heard the doorbell ring, and she prayed that Matt had arrived.

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