Michael
“I’ll just pop down to the lobby,” says James. “They should be waiting down there. Do want to stay here and keep an eye on her?”
In James’ mirrored room, I light candles, straighten the sheets and bedcovers, set the heating to a comfortable level; get the room beautiful for her….
After a while, Charlotte ambles in, looking, as ever, amazing. As we picked her up, in student garb, jeans and a pullover, her hair in a ponytail, she looked good; now, she looks astonishing.
She’s wearing white. I think James asked her to, and she’s chosen a plain white cami in some fine silky material that shimmers and ripples in the gleam of the candles. Her hair is loose, brushed out until it crackles with electric, flowing around her down to waist and hip in a flaming stream. And unusually for her
