Ishamael snaps his hand back from the flower as if it were hot. He did not even go to the effort of concealing the smug grin on his face, a kind of self-absorbed amusement, like a fox who has gotten into the hen house.

"I accept your proposition, Lady Shelley."

A calm, graceful stride as the man in black walked over to where she was huddled down against the wall. Kneeling down across from her, he gave a beautiful smile.

"Whenever you are ready, my lady."