<strong>Lyla Cross</strong><br/><br/><div class="floatright">(http://i674.photobucket.com/albums/vv110/jelly_beanjlw/Lyla.jpg)</div><em>"I think you misunderstand my intentions here.  If I were to humiliate you, it would be far worse than making you serve us a glass of wine before we settled down to the business at hand.  While I can understand that our business is just that, I do expect you to enjoy yourself as much as I do.  This.."<br/><br/>"...is hardly a gesture of wanting to make you feel humiliated.  If you feel that it is such a thing, then please accept my apologies and learn that my intentions are not as such."<br/></em><br/>Her brows shot up in amusement, as she’d said nothing at all about the wine. For a few moments Lyla was curious as to why he would think something like that. It had never been the wine, but rather the look in his eyes that had made her remember her little speech. In truth, she’d only given about half of it in the first place. What a curious man, Mr. Pierce was. She giggled inside, just a little, suddenly very curious as to how this evening was going to go.<br/><em><br/>"Enough conversing then.  Perhaps we should discard the pretensions and just get on with something we both can enjoy."</em><br/><br/>Lyla laughed, the sound a little nervous as he closed the distance between them. The shiver that rolled up her spine was one of warning … though not of danger. A warning of desire ahead, a bell or whistle that told Lyla what she wanted was very close. She’d been kissed breathless on a number of occasions, but there was something in Mr. Pierce’s kiss that took her beyond that. So warm, so full of promise, was that kiss that before she wrenched her lips away she was whimpering.<br/><br/>“I …”<br/><br/>“… give the speech each time. Each woman has …”<br/><br/>Weakly, she moaned.<br/><br/>“… a personal set of rules. Nicole says to make those clear ..”<br/><br/>Then, she giggled.<br/><br/>“… but if you keep kissing me like that, I think I’m going to forget who Nicole even is.”