The thin layer of snow was enough to make walking in stilettos tricky, her stockings, short dress, and knee-length coat hopelessly inadequate protection for her legs. A revealing blouse and two non-existent items of underwear completed the effect.
Angelique wondered what he’d ask for tonight. A man in his position could afford anything, but at seventy even his powers were waning; she knew he’d need something ‘different’.
Reaching the hotel, she discreetly took the lift, checked her appearance once more, then knocked on his penthouse door. Just in time, she remembered to switch on the hidden camera in her handbag.