“You’re drawn to the taboo?” I continued to tease and I purposefully moved to brush against her shoulder while waiting for her response. It’s a little risqué, somewhat darker than the others.” “Um, yes, I liked the color scheme of this one. The brushstrokes themselves were made seductive by the subjects they captured. It was a simple mix of black, white and red – the curved lines of a couple in the throes of passion.

She blushed again, obviously embarrassed to have been caught so mesmerized by the painting that hung on the wall. A bit erotic for my tastes, but I admire the artist’s ability to capture the emotion of her subjects,” I commented. “This is an interesting exhibit they have this week. It was instantaneous and it was all I needed to get what I wanted. Thank you.” Her words tripped over themselves and I smiled kindly, completely aware of the attraction she felt towards me. Her blush was enticing and I wondered if it spread across her entire body as deeply as it did her face.

“Oh! I …” She huffed out a breath and took the handkerchief from my hand, my finger extended out to purposefully rub across hers. She was the type that never suspected and never bothered to glance around at their surroundings – the type that made it so easy. She always behaved like a woman at ease – one who believed a bright future was laid out so easily in front of her. It took two days to track her and study her mannerisms in public. I held out the handkerchief that I previously pulled from her purse when she stood looking at a painting in the art gallery where I’d followed her. Her face immediately blushed the red sprawling across the alabaster perfection of her cheeks in such a way that I could guess she had her share of hopeful admirers. Her blond hair spun around her shoulders like expensive silk when she turned to look at me. “Excuse me, miss, but I think you may have dropped this.”

Her Master's Teacher by Lily White