Lace gloves. Glossyblack stilettos. Long satin evening gowns that clungto the body like a gleaming second skin. SignatureDior stockings with French he...ls and seams running upthe back.It was a parade of the sensual, the feminine and theseductive, one which frightened and captivated him inequal degrees. This fascination had built up over thelast six months, forming in the centre of his beinglike a ball of liquid silver. It had haunted hissleep, hounded his waking hours. And the strangestthing was. Don't be ridiculous, Jason," he assured him, not knowingwhether he was lying or not. "Good," Jason said, without conviction, as he went into his room tochange.Rob was still sitting on the couch when Jen came in, wearing the matchingt-shirt. "Morning, sis!" she said chirpily. "I'm your Dad, not your sister, remember?" Rob said. "Well, I've decided that you just don't look like a dad - and I don'tthink you act like a dad, so I'm gonna call you my sister. Like anhonorary sister. OK?"Rob was in no. More

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