tomorrow," she added as she started up the stairs.
"I just bet you are," Clay muttered as he stretched out on the couch once more and attempted to regain his interest in the book.
❧
When Carolyn slipped on the dress she had chosen for dinner that night, she was afraid her friends had gone too far. She stared at her image in the mirror in dismay. The silver lame dress fit like the skin of an overripe tomato. She wondered if she'd be able to sit down. A slit in the side allowed her to walk, and she prayed that the seam wouldn't give out by mid-evening.
Then she remembered Clay's reaction to Brad and smiled. He hadn't seemed too pleased. Her smile widened. She wondered what Clay's reaction would be to her dress. It was worth wearing the uncomfortable gown just to find out.
Clay was still reading when he heard a noise and turned toward the top of the stairs. "Oh, my God," he muttered sotto voce.
Carolyn stood at the top of the stairs, her silver dress, glittery in the soft light, faithfully following the curving contours of her body. As she took her first step down the stairs, Clay discovered how she was able to move. There was a slit in the side of the skirt that stopped mid-thigh. At least he strongly hoped that was as far as it went.
Carolyn resisted the urge to tug on the skirt to give her more room to walk. As she descended each step, the entire length of her leg came into view, and she repeated her prayer for strong binding in the seams. She glanced up and caught Clay's intent stare as he studied each step she took.
Pausing at the bottom of the stairway, Carolyn gave him a mischievous grin that only increased his pulse rate. "I'm not sure when I'll be back tonight . . . but don't worry if I'm late." She waved her hand airily as she glided out the door.
"Don't worry if I'm late," he mimicked. "What does she think I am, her damn room mother? I don't care how late she stays out, or who she's with. It's her vacation." He realized he was pacing back and forth, talking to himself. Not a good sign.
Clay quickly began to dress for dinner. He couldn't figure out what it was about Carolyn that got to him. It was her freshness and natural beauty that had first caught his eye, but now so much about her tugged at his heart that it scared him. He'd never had this feeling toward anyone before—this need to protect.
As he stared into the mirror checking the knot in his tie, Clay noticed the scowl on his face. Why do I have this strong desire to plant my fist in the face of every male who ogles her? he wondered derisively. The way she's dressed tonight my fist would give out before the men would!
How can she look and act so damned innocent, then wear clothes guaranteed to raise the blood pressure of every man in sight by twenty points? Some friends she has! They should have sent along a bodyguard!
I'd better get a move on if I'm going to keep watch over her tonight. He gave a snort of disgust at the thought. Who would have thought I'd be spending my vacation playing nursemaid to a kid who doesn't even know the dangers of the little games she's playing with such lighthearted abandon.
He slammed the door behind him and strode up the walkway to the main building.
I'm really enjoying the evening, Carolyn reminded herself on three separate occasions. Obviously I'm not the only one, she thought as Clay danced by with a redhead. Their bodies were so carefully molded together that the woman seemed to be made of mercury. She was as tall as Clay, and Carolyn waspishly decided they could have modeled for Ken and Barbie dolls.
Men under six feet don't even attract me, she reminded herself. Then why did she find Clay's build so fascinating? She mentally measured the breadth of his shoulders, then frowned as she noted the woman's fingers playing along the nape of his neck. She found their exhibition disgusting.
She and Ted danced several times. He was an excellent dancer, but Carolyn found that she got a crick in her neck if she tried
"I just bet you are," Clay muttered as he stretched out on the couch once more and attempted to regain his interest in the book.
❧
When Carolyn slipped on the dress she had chosen for dinner that night, she was afraid her friends had gone too far. She stared at her image in the mirror in dismay. The silver lame dress fit like the skin of an overripe tomato. She wondered if she'd be able to sit down. A slit in the side allowed her to walk, and she prayed that the seam wouldn't give out by mid-evening.
Then she remembered Clay's reaction to Brad and smiled. He hadn't seemed too pleased. Her smile widened. She wondered what Clay's reaction would be to her dress. It was worth wearing the uncomfortable gown just to find out.
Clay was still reading when he heard a noise and turned toward the top of the stairs. "Oh, my God," he muttered sotto voce.
Carolyn stood at the top of the stairs, her silver dress, glittery in the soft light, faithfully following the curving contours of her body. As she took her first step down the stairs, Clay discovered how she was able to move. There was a slit in the side of the skirt that stopped mid-thigh. At least he strongly hoped that was as far as it went.
Carolyn resisted the urge to tug on the skirt to give her more room to walk. As she descended each step, the entire length of her leg came into view, and she repeated her prayer for strong binding in the seams. She glanced up and caught Clay's intent stare as he studied each step she took.
Pausing at the bottom of the stairway, Carolyn gave him a mischievous grin that only increased his pulse rate. "I'm not sure when I'll be back tonight . . . but don't worry if I'm late." She waved her hand airily as she glided out the door.
"Don't worry if I'm late," he mimicked. "What does she think I am, her damn room mother? I don't care how late she stays out, or who she's with. It's her vacation." He realized he was pacing back and forth, talking to himself. Not a good sign.
Clay quickly began to dress for dinner. He couldn't figure out what it was about Carolyn that got to him. It was her freshness and natural beauty that had first caught his eye, but now so much about her tugged at his heart that it scared him. He'd never had this feeling toward anyone before—this need to protect.
As he stared into the mirror checking the knot in his tie, Clay noticed the scowl on his face. Why do I have this strong desire to plant my fist in the face of every male who ogles her? he wondered derisively. The way she's dressed tonight my fist would give out before the men would!
How can she look and act so damned innocent, then wear clothes guaranteed to raise the blood pressure of every man in sight by twenty points? Some friends she has! They should have sent along a bodyguard!
I'd better get a move on if I'm going to keep watch over her tonight. He gave a snort of disgust at the thought. Who would have thought I'd be spending my vacation playing nursemaid to a kid who doesn't even know the dangers of the little games she's playing with such lighthearted abandon.
He slammed the door behind him and strode up the walkway to the main building.
I'm really enjoying the evening, Carolyn reminded herself on three separate occasions. Obviously I'm not the only one, she thought as Clay danced by with a redhead. Their bodies were so carefully molded together that the woman seemed to be made of mercury. She was as tall as Clay, and Carolyn waspishly decided they could have modeled for Ken and Barbie dolls.
Men under six feet don't even attract me, she reminded herself. Then why did she find Clay's build so fascinating? She mentally measured the breadth of his shoulders, then frowned as she noted the woman's fingers playing along the nape of his neck. She found their exhibition disgusting.
She and Ted danced several times. He was an excellent dancer, but Carolyn found that she got a crick in her neck if she tried
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