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"You e kind. One side of my family is French, the other is Turkish. The result is --" "Whores eyes," Micah said and smiled. Elise flinched. "Thats a compliment. Maybe erotic would be more politically correct," Micah said. Elise laughed, but she felt a prickle of heat at her throat. "Hold still," Micah ordered. The heat on her throat deepened as Elise became self-conscious of the little womans eyes on her. The breeze picked up, scattering brittle leaves across the plaza. "Winters coming," Elisa said. Micah sketched in silence. "I have to get back to the office." "Okay," Micah said. She tore the page from the pad and held it for Micah to see. "Oh, my!" The figure was unmistakable A few blow asian teen lines captured the highlights in the dark blonde hair, the apples of the rising cheekbones, the small straight mouth, the large light brown eyes with the thick dark lashes and the straight slash of brows. "Like?" "Very much," Elise said. A strong gust caught the page and tore it from Micahs hands. "Shit!" The little woman ran after blow asian teen it. Elise grabbed at the pad as it tumbled from the bench. The wind riffled at the pages. She caught it and looked down at a drawing beneath her fingers. Heat rose on her cheeks. "I got it!" Micah yelled in the wind, holding the sketch tightly. Elise turned the blow asian teen pad to her. Micah blow asian teen looked at the page, shrugged and smiled with her little teeth. Elise dropped the pad onto the bench and walked away. "Don you want your picture?" Micah called. Elise walked faster, her face hot with blush. Elise did not go to the plaza the next day -- or the next. She watched from her tower. The air had grown gray and cold. Few of the blow asian teen women went there to blow asian teen lunch. Micah sat on her bench wrapped in a bulky shawl -- and sketched. Elise tried to put the image on the wind-whipped pad out of her mind, but it always came back -- at her computer, in the boardroom, and always at night. The soft lines of the shoulders, the curve of the narrowing waist, the subtle shadings that became shoulder blades and spine. The slender arms with long-fingered blow asian teen delicate hands. The cord that bound the wrists together at the small of the back. The flare at the hips that flowed into the graceful pears of buttocks. The lines across those globes -- so subtle as to hardly be there -- but clearly the marks of a lash.