James Knight Vs. Salome: The Proposition

"What do you want from me, Miss Apostolos?" Taken in by his demanding tone, Salome moved her body closer to his. "Only if you wish to be wet, would I come any closer." James gently pushed her away.

"Why, Mr. Knight, was that an invitation, and you said you were a gentleman, how unbecoming?" Salome winked, her eyes were already hypnotized by the beads of water rolling down his bare chest. "You may find my need for you is a bit unconventional." Salome reached for the knot on his towel, but stopped when looking into his hazel eyes, she could feel him trembling under his towel. Instead, she ran her fingertips down his chest and over his shoulders. "I assure you, Mr. Knight," Salome pushed her body even closer to his, and made a play for his earlobes. "My motives are not of a sexual nature," Salome nuzzled his neck, and began planting angel kisses along his moist skin. "But it is a woman's prerogative to change her mind!" She softly murmured to him. Before Salome could start nibbling on the rest of him, James again pushed her away.

"This has all been very awkward, I think I will just grab my clothes and change down the hall." James resolved nervously. "That will not be necessary, Mr. Knight, in fact I quite like the view from where I am standing. I don't suppose your Lady Chamberlain has seen you this way before?" Salome's eyebrows danced with lustful delight. "Then again?"

"Let me at least put my robe on . . . " James glanced around the room. "That is, if I can find it." He laughed. "Would you be speaking of this robe, Mr. Knight?" Salome dangled the heavy, black, fabric from her fingertips.

"Yes, thank you." He was about to reach for it, but Salome snatched it away. "I will return your cover, Mr. Knight, on one condition, that you hear me out!"

"You are aware that I am an investigator . . . not a . . . well, you understand?" His voice trembled. "You do like women, don't you, Mr. Knight?"

"I certainly do, but." Salome was quick to interrupt the seemingly prudish detective. "Quite honestly, Mr. Knight," Salome whipped her head around and sighed. "It is your assistance I require, but it is my father who needs your help."

"Why does your father need my help?" Salome slowly backed away from him. "I do not have time to explain now, just say you will accept!" Salome's suggestive innuendoes were replaced by aggressive banter, her insistent tone spoke to James. She was not giving him an option, but a command.

"I don't know, Miss Apostolos, I would rather know more about your father's predicament, before I accept." James replied. Salome pulled from underneath her cape, a velvet and burgundy bag with golden ties. She took James' hand and placed the satchel into his palm.

"How do two-hundred pounds sound? I am sure this is all of the explaining you will need, but before I forget," Salome held in her other hand a calling card with silver trimmings. "This is where you will find me tomorrow evening, when you come to see my father." She held it loosely between her fingertips.

"I don't seem to have anywhere to put that." James snickered. Salome smiled coyly up at him while, tucking the card between the towel and his moist flesh.

"I will be waiting for you, Mr. Knight, and please, do use discretion, the police do not need to be involved." Salome instructed him. She flung back her black cape, but did not wait for James to show her out, instead she took it upon herself. Before the door was able to close, James rushed off after the raven-haired Salome.

"Miss Apostolos, wait, there is something you don't understand!" James was about to go after her, but when he reached the hall she was already gone. "But I am with the police." He sighed. Once she was gone from sight, James removed the calling card from his towel. "1313 Oliver Court." He read.