Miss Bright leaned back in her throne-like chair and crossed her elegant arms over her chest. "Perhaps if you described the dream? Maybe that will give me some idea what you're looking for."

Holly held up her chin and ignored the heat that flared in her cheeks again at the thought of discussing her fantasy with Miss Bright. As mortifying as this discussion was, she didn't really see how she was going to avoid talking about this if she wanted to make her twisted fantasy a reality.

"Well," she said softly, looking down at the hem of her sweater, she began fiddling with a loose thread as a distraction. "I don't know what your dreams are like, but I don't actually know where it begins or ends. I'm just unconscious and then all of a sudden I'm in the middle of this situation. Most nights, someone is there, in the room with me, and they're hurting me. Holding me down and doing terrible things to me. Saying awful, ugly things and threatening to do worse if I don't shut up. But sometimes it's completely different. Someone is there, yes, but he doesn't want to hurt me. He wants to worship me."

Holly glanced up at Miss Bright and watche d her expression, waiting to see doubt there on her face, but instead she s aw complete indifference. This woman doesn't care, Holly thought to herself, but she's not judging me either. For some reason, that distinction g ave Holly the courage to continue her description.

"He shackles my hands to the headboard, and blindfolds me, but he does it all so gently. I fight him a little, but he's so powerful that it's quite clear that I'm completely at his mercy. Once he has me restrained, he begins kissing me. Everywhere. I mean, every square inch of my body. And as he does this he's talking softly to me. Saying these dirty, wonderful things to me. Telling me how gorgeous I am, and how much he wants me. How desperate he is for me."

Holly grinned at this. "I know it seems ridiculous that anyone would say those things to me, but in the dream I feel beautiful and sexy. He makes me feel that way. Like a goddess."

Miss Bright looks at her blankly for a moment. "Why is that ridiculous? You've never had a man tell you that you're desirable before?"

Holly rolled her eyes. "Well, yes. But you know men. They'll say anything to get laid."

"Maybe so, but that doesn't mean it's not true."

Holly gestured down at her plain clothing and ran a hand through her slicked-back hair. "C'mon. I'm no man's fantasy. I look like I haven't slept in weeks, and even before this happened, men weren't exactly panting after me. I'm twenty nine years old and I've only had three boyfriends. No one is mistaking me for a supermodel, believe me. But I'm okay with being plain. At least I was until this dream man came along and made me feel like I was missing out on something more."

Miss Bright shook her head in disbelief. "I have no idea how so many intelligent women are deluded into believing they're plain just because they aren't emaciated giants from the pages of Vogue. You, Miss Chamber, look like you could use a good long rest, and possibly a few good meals, but other than that, you're quite lovely. If the three men you had the misfortune to date neglected to convince you of that, then they were imbeciles."

Holly gaped at Miss Bright in shock, clearly surprised at her passion. "My boyfriends didn't convince me I was plain. My mirror did."

"Then your mirror is clearly of the fun-house variety." Miss Bright said, her voice completely deadpan.

Holly couldn't help it. A bark of laughter escaped her. Probably the first genuine laugh she'd uttered in months. It felt amazingly good. "Fun-house? Really?"

Miss Bright looked disgruntled. "Well, you have no idea how frustrating it is. Women come here. We're talking about incredibly smart and beautiful women of distinctive taste and charm, and yet they're worried that their SFs won't be attracted to them because they're too short, too old, too fat, too skinny, too something. I try very hard not to lose my temper with them but it's extremely difficult. The men who work here are paid a great deal of money to make our clients feel beautiful and yet they are so determined to believe they're undesirable. And the fact that they are paying for their fantasy just seems to undermine their confidence further."

"I had no idea."

"Forgive me, Miss Chambers. I should not be discussing this with you. But if one more client postpones their appointment because they want to get plastic surgery or a full body wax first, or they want to book extra personal training sessions so they can lose five more unnecessary pounds, I am going to start issuing refunds, and that is not something I do lightly."

Holly tried not to grin at the blonde executive's threatening tone. She had clearly hit a nerve. "So, your, uh, guys, they don't complain when they're set up with an average woman?"

"Certainly not. Like most men, they appreciate variety. If they were only interested in pursuing sexual relationships with 22-year-old bikini models, then they are in the wrong business. Besides, most men don't require the same strict standards of attractiveness that women impose upon themselves. And the men who work for Delta of Venus, Inc., appreciate feminine beauty in all its forms. Now, getting back to your fantasy. What happens after he kisses you and verbally titillates you?"

Verbally titillates? Oh yes, the dirty talk. "Well, then he makes me, uh, kiss him. Down there." Holly pointed down at her own crotch.

"He makes you perform or al sex? While you’ re restrained? So he straddles your chest and you fellate him?"

"Umm… Yes." God. Fellate sound ed so clinical and weird. Could Holly do that to a stranger? In the dream it had felt so sexy to give up control and do exactly what her dream lover demanded. But in reality, she thought maybe she would feel awkward performing that particular act with someone she would never see.

"And you would like to include this in your fantasy?"

Holly hesitated. To be honest, she wasn't too sure about this part. But if she wanted to be true to the dream then she didn't have much choice. She nodded in response to Miss Bright's question.

"And then?" Miss Bright prompted.

"Well, in the dream, he somehow manages to flip me over and then he takes me from behind. Hard and fast."

"Anally?"

"No." Holly nearly shouted. "He just props me up on some pillows and takes me. It's unbelievably hot and he makes me, uh, climax over and over again, before he finally, well, you know."

"Has his own orgasm?"

"Yes."

"And then he sneaks back out and you're cured?"

"Something like that."

"Hmmm…Miss Chambers. Tell me this. What does your fantasy man look like?"

The image of Constable Delgado's face flashed into Holly's mind, but she hadn't heard from him since that night. All contact she'd had with the Vancouver Police has been through his partner, Constable Gill. But it was still Delgado's face and body she imposed on her dream lover.

Sitting across from Miss Bright, she could easily imagine the hot cop's silky dark hair sliding across her skin, his large hands caressing her curves, his firm lips teasing her nipples and his tongue delving between her moist folds. In her darkest, most fevered fantasies, it was always him.

It took some effort to return Holly's attention to the conversation at hand. "Does it really matter? I'll never see his face. He could look like Shrek and I'd never know."

Miss Bright's lips twisted up in a half-smile. "Is that part of your fantasy? You'd like your intruder to be a green ogre? Because we could arrange it."