The goon scooped up her lithe body into his capable arms, supporting her weight at her bare back and behind her knees. Her stocking feet pointed toward the hardwood floor swaying in gentle scissor motions as her body was shifted into place within his grasp. The blonde's delicate head lolled about in lackadaisical unconsciousness placing strain upon her long slender neck before Sinclair's arm cradled it with support in the crook of his arm.
"There, there, Miss Meadows..." he whispered looking down upon her gentle face unaware. "Careful, you dolt," he chided his henchman. The goon cringed, getting the slender blonde's body weight balanced comfortably.
"Seeing her... this way... reminds you how easily she can break," explained Sinclair to his man, indicating the display of her bare shoulders, the visible bone structure in her collar, the vulnerability of her exposed smooth stomach, and the tiny sleepwear and barely black pantyhose that did the bare minimum to protect her feminine modesty, and everything to remind one of her femininity. She had not expected company when she waltzed into the bedroom dressed as she was.
"Now then, Miss Meadows..." continued Sinclair, feeling the tickle of her golden blonde hair against his wrist where he cradled her sleeping head. He allowed the indulgence of feeling how smooth the skin of her face was against the side of his hand. Even a professional as he was, he could not conceal the smile it brought. She was beyond stunning. Dawn Meadows was the most beautiful girl he had ever laid eyes upon. But she was more than that.
"You didn't think that something as arbitrary as jail could keep me from returning to finish what we started, did you?" he spoke to her in gentle tones, watching the gentle rise and fall of her chest, knowing there were tiny invisible breaths escaping from her slightly parted lips. Subtly erratic movement behind her tastefully shadowed eyelids indicated her blissful sleep.
"No, you are smarter than that, Miss Meadows. You had to know that I would come. You had to know that your meddling, however noble you have deluded yourself it is. That it would lead, eventually to this moment. I think, that, is the part that you have always been naive about. That is the part that you never seemed to believe. I think you thought you were stopping me. That it was this great 'truth and justice' that you have always believed you were fighting for."
"But you were just delaying things. You are very good at what you do, Miss Meadows. You are a beautiful rose, the world tells you that every single day. You see it when you look at yourself in the mirror. You feel it when you stretch these pantyhose up your carefully sculpted legs. But you are a thorn, Miss Meadows. You meddle in my operations, you cost me money, you cost me liberty, and you cost me time."
"And despite all your second chances, all of your warnings, all of your opportunities to avoid senseless peril, you seemingly blindly, naively, and foolishly blunder into it."
Sinclair paused in his speech, allowing the the blonde reporter the opportunity to counterpoint, but she just lay there, draped in the hired man's big strong arms. She was the the very picturesque definition of vulnerability.
"Now then, it appears that you had plans with Mr Daniel Breslin. That dress there on the bed. I am to believe you had intended to wear that to the gala? No doubt Mr Breslin would have been beside himself to see you slinking around in that," Sinclair chuckled.
"How long has he waited for this moment with you? How many years, Dawn Meadows, have you made Daniel Breslin wait? How long have you kept him at arm's length? Tsk Tsk... he would be... devastated. To be so close to his greatest desire... only to be told yet again... not yet."
The continuation of Winter Cabin Part III. Please enjoy this chapter in the ongoing saga of Rose Tribune reporter, Dawn Meadows. It's freezing cold outside this time of year. Everybody make sure to stay warm!
(This picture was made in Daz Studio 220.127.116.11 and post-worked in Adobe Photoshop CS2)