Putting down the goblet, Nicholas Croft leaned forward to pick up the cigarette case, pulled out a cigarette and held it between his lips, lit it with a platinum lighter, took a puff, then tossed the cigarette case back onto the low table, and lazily leaned back into the chair again, contentedly looking toward the stage, holding the cigarette in one hand, and absentmindedly fiddling with the lighter in the other.
With a thud, something heavy fell from above, landing directly next to Nicholas Croft, and before he could see clearly what it was, the heavy object had already curled into his arms.
Two men were coming from behind; in a panic, Sophie Foster buried her face into Nicholas Croft's abdomen, clinging tightly to his shirt, her breath barely brushing through the fabric of his trousers to a sensitive spot.
