Love At First Bite

Would the man with the velvety voice be a hot dish?

- ELLIE HOLMES

His voice sounded like velvet; a rich tone, whispering over her skin. Like the softest of blankets, she luxuriated in his words, erudite sentences that enveloped her in their warmth, massaging the tension from between her shoulder blades and holding her captive.

She could hear the strength of feeling running like a thread through every impassioned word, the top note of pride, the back note of frustration and always, always the undertone of love. Her heart fluttered and her soul sighed. How she longed for someone to talk about her with such feeling.

She shut out the chaos around her. She couldn't identify an accent but that delighted rather than frustrated her. It was part of the mystery: a back story beneath the velvet to be mined and explored.

His words tumbled through her ear and into her heart. She was a cat basking in the sun, purring under the extravagance of his attention. What must it be like to hear that voice every day, to let that dark and mellifluous tone pull you in, hold you close and caress you. A tingle ran down her spine.

Suddenly he stopped talking. The silence was a needle of discomfort, pricking her conscience.

"You're not my sister, are you?"

"No, I'm not."

"I've gone and dialled the wrong number, haven't I?"