17 - Morak
Morak took Lanees’s arm and escorted her to the rented vehicle while the chauffeur opened the hover’s door. As she sat, flares from the porch played a game with the lights and shadow, enhancing her curves outlined by the long crimson gown she wore. He couldn’t help but imagine himself removing her clothes and taking her in the hover’s backseat, forgoing dinner.
He walked around the veicle and climbed in, focusing his mind on other things.
‘I expect a bunch of journalists will be waiting for us. We won’t engage with them,’ he said, unable to keep his eyes off her.
The press of a free world always knows everything about everyone, Morak thought, envying Cressel for a moment and the control he still had on the news.
‘Of course,’ she replied, sitting stiff as a child on her firs
