A Fancy To Kill For

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This book is dedicated to actors everywhere, bless them, without whom the world would be a saner place — but so much more dull.

With special thanks to Sergeant Frank Waghorn of the Avon and Somerset Constabulary, and Detective Constable Phil Diss of the Devon and Cornwall Constabulary.

His hands rested possessively on her bare shoulders. She leaned back against him and smiled a silly smile which carried all the message of her sexual arousal. In turn his eyes were dark with desire and he moved his fingers sensuously, deliciously exploring the burning smoothness of her flesh. Oh how he loved this. To know they were both pretending. The best game of all.

She was stark naked sitting on the gold velvet bedroom stool. A woman past her prime in life, but with a body painstakingly well-preserved. He stood behind her still wearing the navy-blue pin-striped trousers of his immaculate city suit — jacket and shirt cast aside on the bed. The buckle to his trousers and the top button of his flies — always buttons for him, never a zip — were undone where she had grappled earlier in her uncontrolled hunger for him. He had told her not to be in such a hurry and had made her undress before him, then sit exactly how he wanted her to.

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