The lacquered nails  moved to the buttons of her coat. It didn’t escape her, she mused as his long legs dominated the space between the chair and desk, that he always seemed so pleased with his own witty banter.  At least he didn’t sit in my chair she conceded  internally, as she swiftly undid the two large buttons. She glided back to her chair, hips swaying slightly the blazer fell like a cream colored flag of surrender .<br/><br/>“Mr. Morgan, this maybe a game to you.” She looked down at him as her hands slid to the band of her highwasited skirt.  “What I did not ask you to do is come into my domain to mock me. I would appreciate you not insult my intelligence by pretending you do not have the withal to gather such details pertaining to the who.”<br/><br/>Her bright eyes never left his, as her hands bunched the creamy silk chemise, she wore, exposing the flat expansion of her upper abdomen. “The what is this.” Syn slowly pulled the wisp of material over her head , to let it flutter to the floor. She reached behind her back. Making quick haste she unclasped the rose lace that covered her breasts.<br/><br/>“Under different circumstances one such as you, Mr. Morgan” she looked down her nose at him, letting the full weight of her stare linger on him. She knew that he had to be wondering where this was leading. “ why you would have made a formidable conquest.” Syn could easily envision how a different version of the cat and mouse game would evolve between them.<br/><br/>Her attention on his full bottom lip she let the bra drop, as she pivoted on her heels, not quite denying him a glimpse of her as she turned her back on him. “Perhaps it is  more like showing you the item you will procure.”<br/><br/>Syn’s narrow form gleamed in the cold afternoon sun. There between her shoulder blades, down the center of her spine, the pale skin turned a garish pink. Branded, nearly 11 inches in length was the out line of a small blade. The shiny scar extended to her nipped in waist. The hues of white and pink formed a complicated pattern in the confines of the raised texture. The lowlights muted in stark red comparison to the shimmering highlights of the marred skin.<br/><br/>“Morgan, do you understand the significance of what needs to be recovered?”<br/>