"Rob Blevins clamped down hard on his reactions. He'd come within an eyelash of tossing that insolent, half-hysterical woman researcher in the brig fo...llowing her brash entrance into his office. She'd thrown an obviously forged piece of seaweed paper on his desk and shouted a cock-and-bull story about an abandoned man halfway down the Marie Byrd Land coast. She refused to answer how she got hold of the message. She'd kept insisting that he check it out if he didn't believe her.He'd put her under. Stirring the paint, putting the drop sheets down, positioning his ladders.While he showed me, I took stock of him. Shorter than me, lean but muscular, dark hair that needed cutting, and definitely not the most handsome male I'd seen. He had a quick effortless way of getting things done.By the end of the first week, I had the hang of what he wanted, and we worked well together. During our breaks, I found out he was married, with two young boys. I also discovered he had a roving eye, nothing. It wasn't that guns were evil or bad, after all, her security team kept her safe by force of arms, it was the fact that without the Second ... the provisions of the rest of the protections of the people were no longer valid.That was what "the Ruling Class" wanted. The problem was, the Ruling Class was getting old. Old men and old women, steeped in power and privilege, were dying. They were Law Makers and law makers must make laws ... they did.Passing laws that do not apply to themselves ... or. .."Janice closed her eyes again, stretching out one hand and steadying herself against a low stall wall. She was breathing heavily, trying to regain some sense of reality in this natural situation. Then she thought of those days in Griffith Park once more, thought of the way the animals felt between her legs, that rocking, rolling sensation of something warm and muscular rubbing against her thighs and her butt. That tingle, that damned itchy tingle began all over again when she thought of those.