Even in that first moment of confused surprise, Marc was quite well aware that no girl had ever eyed him with such undisguised pleasure—or such frank intent. Certainly no girl as beautiful as this one, at any rate. Perhaps, if she'd just done something about getting dressed.... He'd never seen a more top notch pair of legs.

Disconcertingly, the girl had chosen to place between herself and the raw elements only a slight green tunic of a consistency comparable to that of the airy mists on the slope. Considering this, Marc felt keenly that the situation called for, in full voice, a hasty apology and the quick slam of a door; he was terribly aware that there wasn't much more between him and this alarming newcomer than the atmosphere and a very pregnant silence. He couldn't understand how the girl could be so unconcerned about it.

"I'm sorry...!" Marc said quickly. "I...."

"I'm delighted," the girl said. She smiled softly, in a way that suggested great intimacy.

"I think I'll scream," Marc said weakly, "if you're not going to."

"I'm not going to," the girl said. "Not a chance."

Marc reflected erratically that this creature, in spite of her loveliness, was surely a traveler from hell; the fires of that region danced unmistakably on the surface of her soft red hair and in the depths of her vivid green eyes. His unbelieving gaze left her pert young face and helplessly traveled the course of her supple body. It was a disturbing trip; unhurried curves moved indolently outward and took their time about coming back. And then, as the girl started forward, Marc glanced up to discover that her gaze had followed his own. He looked away sharply and was aware of a feverish sensation about the neck and cheeks.

"There's no need to blush," the girl laughed.

"There's every need in the world," Marc said uneasily. "A crying need."

"If you're embarrassed," the girl said, "you've no one to blame but yourself."

Marc turned back, careful that his gaze went directly to her face and remained there. "Are you trying to suggest that it's my fault that you're naked?"

"Of course it is," the girl said. "It's all your fault, now that you bring it up. After all, I'm your exclusive creation. You dreamed me up, curve for curve, line for line, and if 

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