"An offer, Amanda?" He stares into her eyes, which are gleaming with mischief- a look he's become all too familiar with. She giggles, a light airy one that stirs his usually phlegmatic heart, and leans closer over his desk. Her torso and bosom shift his papers; her hair drips over his latest political conquest.
"Yes Sarek, an offer," she repeats, lifting her nose closer to his. He raises an eyebrow, refusing to notice the stirring in his loins.
"And what would that offer be?" he questions quietly, his body stock-still against his chair.
"My offer," she begins, breathing hotly on his face, "is me." He looks at her blankly as she rises, a devilish smirk on her face. Before he can question her, she turns and runs out of his office, giggling uncontrollably, and calls over her shoulder, "I'll be in the bedroom!" He only needs a moment to contemplate her "offer" before he bolts out of his office behind her.