to her, didn’t you, Agnes?”
“It was a calculated risk.”
“But your ones and zeroes aren’t adding up now, are they?”
“The program hasn’t compiled yet.” Agnes sniffed. “I’m waiting to see the result of the run before I cry uncle.”
Computer or not—she was a worthy opponent. He narrowed his eyes. “A little touchy for a computer, aren’t you?”
“A little dense for a Plaything , aren’t you?”
“Bite me!” He smirked when she failed to respond. “Ha!”
“I managed to fool you, didn’t I?”
“Witch!”
“Well, this is interesting,” Priscilla murmured.
He caught himself before he uttered another moronic word. Agnes and her demented circuitry had managed to bluff him —Declan O’Hanlon! He was just glad none of his crew was around to witness his humiliation. It was bad enough Priss’s mouth was twisted in a grin.
Declan reached for the top of Priscilla’s towel and whipped it from her body. Ignoring her gasp, he rubbed the towel over his chest and down his stomach to his groin.
Her gaze followed, and then her lips tightened. She turned to grab the other towel from the countertop, giving him a delicious view of her naked ass, and then wrapped it around her body.
He turned his back and quickly blotted his hair with the towel. “The sooner I’m out of this loony bin, the better,” he muttered, dropping the towel to the floor.
“What do you say, boss? You want to send him back?” Agnes asked.
“You’re not sending me anywhere,” Declan growled. “I’m going.”
“Not so fast, smuggler. Remember your crew and ship?”
Declan raised his head. Was Agnes coming clean? He glanced at Priscilla.
She shrugged, her expression indifferent. “If he wants to go, let him.”
Declan pretended her indifference didn’t bother him a bit. And it didn’t! He leaned toward the mirror and examined his newly beardless face. He was a very handsome fellow. Plenty of women would be happy to have a man like him at their disposal for a weekend.
“And what do you think will happen to him then?” Agnes asked.
Priscilla’s brows drew together. “He’ll go on to the next customer. Just a few hours early.”
“As he is?”
“Oh. No, I suppose not.” She chewed the edge of her lip. “Do you think he knows?” she whispered.
Declan’s instincts told him that once again there was an undercurrent of conversation he didn’t understand. “Knows what?”
Priscilla shrugged, but this time worry marred her forehead. “What happens after…you go back.”
Declan stared. Something told him she suspected his fate wouldn’t be pleasant. Was she in on the blackmail scheme, too? “Agnes? We had a deal.”
“Yes, we did. But you’ve broken it.”
“What about my crew?”
“After you leave here, all bets are off. Best make a quick getaway, or you’ll be joining them.”
“Agnes, I’m confused,” Priscilla said. “Are we talking about the same thing?”
“Of course not. He’s in his role. ” Agnes whispered the last.
“Oh!” Her eyes widened. “So what is this about his crew and ship?”
“If you must know, if he pleases you this weekend, they’ll be free— they’re in the hoosegow .”
Agnes was diabolical. Declan had no doubt she’d somehow fed Priscilla an alternate tall tale. She was masterfully manipulating them both.
“So, he’s being blackmailed to…entertain me?”
“Yup.”
“I don’t know whether to be flattered or horrified.” Priscilla’s expression grew crafty. “Does that mean he has to do what I say?”
Declan grunted.
“Not at all, sweetcakes. He has to do what I say.”
Priscilla wrinkled her nose. “How’s that any different? You serve me.”
“I look after your interests, hon. I know what you need . Remember, I’m intimately aware of your profile.”
Priscilla gave a frustrated sigh. “I’m getting a headache.”
“Now you know how I feel,” Declan muttered under his breath.
“Bet he knows a cure,” Agnes said
“It was a calculated risk.”
“But your ones and zeroes aren’t adding up now, are they?”
“The program hasn’t compiled yet.” Agnes sniffed. “I’m waiting to see the result of the run before I cry uncle.”
Computer or not—she was a worthy opponent. He narrowed his eyes. “A little touchy for a computer, aren’t you?”
“A little dense for a Plaything , aren’t you?”
“Bite me!” He smirked when she failed to respond. “Ha!”
“I managed to fool you, didn’t I?”
“Witch!”
“Well, this is interesting,” Priscilla murmured.
He caught himself before he uttered another moronic word. Agnes and her demented circuitry had managed to bluff him —Declan O’Hanlon! He was just glad none of his crew was around to witness his humiliation. It was bad enough Priss’s mouth was twisted in a grin.
Declan reached for the top of Priscilla’s towel and whipped it from her body. Ignoring her gasp, he rubbed the towel over his chest and down his stomach to his groin.
Her gaze followed, and then her lips tightened. She turned to grab the other towel from the countertop, giving him a delicious view of her naked ass, and then wrapped it around her body.
He turned his back and quickly blotted his hair with the towel. “The sooner I’m out of this loony bin, the better,” he muttered, dropping the towel to the floor.
“What do you say, boss? You want to send him back?” Agnes asked.
“You’re not sending me anywhere,” Declan growled. “I’m going.”
“Not so fast, smuggler. Remember your crew and ship?”
Declan raised his head. Was Agnes coming clean? He glanced at Priscilla.
She shrugged, her expression indifferent. “If he wants to go, let him.”
Declan pretended her indifference didn’t bother him a bit. And it didn’t! He leaned toward the mirror and examined his newly beardless face. He was a very handsome fellow. Plenty of women would be happy to have a man like him at their disposal for a weekend.
“And what do you think will happen to him then?” Agnes asked.
Priscilla’s brows drew together. “He’ll go on to the next customer. Just a few hours early.”
“As he is?”
“Oh. No, I suppose not.” She chewed the edge of her lip. “Do you think he knows?” she whispered.
Declan’s instincts told him that once again there was an undercurrent of conversation he didn’t understand. “Knows what?”
Priscilla shrugged, but this time worry marred her forehead. “What happens after…you go back.”
Declan stared. Something told him she suspected his fate wouldn’t be pleasant. Was she in on the blackmail scheme, too? “Agnes? We had a deal.”
“Yes, we did. But you’ve broken it.”
“What about my crew?”
“After you leave here, all bets are off. Best make a quick getaway, or you’ll be joining them.”
“Agnes, I’m confused,” Priscilla said. “Are we talking about the same thing?”
“Of course not. He’s in his role. ” Agnes whispered the last.
“Oh!” Her eyes widened. “So what is this about his crew and ship?”
“If you must know, if he pleases you this weekend, they’ll be free— they’re in the hoosegow .”
Agnes was diabolical. Declan had no doubt she’d somehow fed Priscilla an alternate tall tale. She was masterfully manipulating them both.
“So, he’s being blackmailed to…entertain me?”
“Yup.”
“I don’t know whether to be flattered or horrified.” Priscilla’s expression grew crafty. “Does that mean he has to do what I say?”
Declan grunted.
“Not at all, sweetcakes. He has to do what I say.”
Priscilla wrinkled her nose. “How’s that any different? You serve me.”
“I look after your interests, hon. I know what you need . Remember, I’m intimately aware of your profile.”
Priscilla gave a frustrated sigh. “I’m getting a headache.”
“Now you know how I feel,” Declan muttered under his breath.
“Bet he knows a cure,” Agnes said
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