well-being?”
“Oh please, Ms. Wheaton, I’m deeply concerned about your safety and well-being, of course.”
“Of course,” she said, smiling at the don’t-make-me-laugh tone of his voice. She liked his quick, sarcastic humor. It meant he was intelligent and world wise, shrewd and clever. “Well, as it happens, Mr. Dunsmore, I did plan for such incidentals as illness and injuries. And should anything happen to me, I’ll save my last dying breath to tell you how to get yourself rescued. Does that make you feel any better?”
“Absolutely,” he said, only half-attentive. There was a picture of her parents on her dresser. She might be thoughtful and quiet like her father, but she looked like her mother. The same dark hair and big dark eyes; the charmingly crooked smile. They shared the trim, healthy, robust look and ... there was a warmth and openness in their expressions that was uncanny.
“Uh-oh. You’re being awfully quiet out there,” she said. “Have you found something that interests you?”
“I’ll say. I had you pegged for a sturdy cotton girl, and here’s all these skimpy silk and lace underthings. My-oh-my, Ms. Wheaton. You’re just one surprise after another.” A brief pause. “If you’ve got a towel handy, use it.”
“For what?”
“Anything you want, but I’m coming in,” he said. And then he did.
“Do you mind?” she asked, sinking lower in the tub and pushing bubbles in the most judicious directions. She glowered at him.
“Of course not,” he said. “Carry on.”
He opened her medicine cabinet and studied the contents; found nothing that grabbed his interest and moved on to her cosmetics. The whole inspection wouldn’t have taken two seconds, but his eyes kept wandering to the big claw-foot bathtub and the flushed, rosy naked woman who lay just below bubble level.
“Really, Mr. Dunsmore, couldn’t you have waited until I finished my bath? I don’t mind your prowling around, but my water’s getting cold. Couldn’t this wait—”
“I’ve been thinking,” he said, perching himself on the lid of the commode, crossing his legs, leaning back against the tank, and twisting his arms across his chest to watch her bathe. “If we’re going to experience magic together, shouldn’t we call each other by our first names? Call me old-fashioned, but an impassioned woman screaming out, ‘Please, Mr. Dunsmore. Now, Mr. Dunsmore,’ is a little too formal for my tastes. I prefer casual sex and to be on a first name basis with my partners.” He wrinkled his nose at her. “It’s friendlier that way.”
“Friendlier?” she asked. She swallowed hard. Was it her imagination, or was her bath water heating up again? “I ... I ...”
“You have been tested, haven’t you?”
“Tested?”
“Harriet,” he said, giving her an artful smile, enjoying the sudden panic in her expression. “You’re not going to play coy with me, are you? You had me going for a few minutes, but now we both know why you lured me here and sank the boat. And I don’t mind telling you, I’m flattered. Would you like me to wash your back?”
“What?” Oh, Lord! He thought ... “Mr. Dunsmore—”
“Payton.”
“Mr. Dunsmore, you’ve—”
“Payton.”
“Payton, you’ve got this all wrong. It’s not like that.”
“It’s not like what?”
“I did lure you out here, but not for sex.”
“You did think to bring condoms, I hope. If you haven’t actually had the blood test done, then maybe we should be cautious until we can get you checked out,” he said, nodding sagely.
“I’ve been checked, and we won’t need any condoms,” she said, more than a bit flustered. Her cheeks felt on fire. She was so hot, she expected the bath water to start putting off steam.
“Great,” he said, grinning, his gaze lowering to her blanket of bubbles. “Want me to do your back now?”
“No. I want you to go.”
“Can’t,” he said with a shrug.
“Why not?”
“No boat.” Razzing
“Oh please, Ms. Wheaton, I’m deeply concerned about your safety and well-being, of course.”
“Of course,” she said, smiling at the don’t-make-me-laugh tone of his voice. She liked his quick, sarcastic humor. It meant he was intelligent and world wise, shrewd and clever. “Well, as it happens, Mr. Dunsmore, I did plan for such incidentals as illness and injuries. And should anything happen to me, I’ll save my last dying breath to tell you how to get yourself rescued. Does that make you feel any better?”
“Absolutely,” he said, only half-attentive. There was a picture of her parents on her dresser. She might be thoughtful and quiet like her father, but she looked like her mother. The same dark hair and big dark eyes; the charmingly crooked smile. They shared the trim, healthy, robust look and ... there was a warmth and openness in their expressions that was uncanny.
“Uh-oh. You’re being awfully quiet out there,” she said. “Have you found something that interests you?”
“I’ll say. I had you pegged for a sturdy cotton girl, and here’s all these skimpy silk and lace underthings. My-oh-my, Ms. Wheaton. You’re just one surprise after another.” A brief pause. “If you’ve got a towel handy, use it.”
“For what?”
“Anything you want, but I’m coming in,” he said. And then he did.
“Do you mind?” she asked, sinking lower in the tub and pushing bubbles in the most judicious directions. She glowered at him.
“Of course not,” he said. “Carry on.”
He opened her medicine cabinet and studied the contents; found nothing that grabbed his interest and moved on to her cosmetics. The whole inspection wouldn’t have taken two seconds, but his eyes kept wandering to the big claw-foot bathtub and the flushed, rosy naked woman who lay just below bubble level.
“Really, Mr. Dunsmore, couldn’t you have waited until I finished my bath? I don’t mind your prowling around, but my water’s getting cold. Couldn’t this wait—”
“I’ve been thinking,” he said, perching himself on the lid of the commode, crossing his legs, leaning back against the tank, and twisting his arms across his chest to watch her bathe. “If we’re going to experience magic together, shouldn’t we call each other by our first names? Call me old-fashioned, but an impassioned woman screaming out, ‘Please, Mr. Dunsmore. Now, Mr. Dunsmore,’ is a little too formal for my tastes. I prefer casual sex and to be on a first name basis with my partners.” He wrinkled his nose at her. “It’s friendlier that way.”
“Friendlier?” she asked. She swallowed hard. Was it her imagination, or was her bath water heating up again? “I ... I ...”
“You have been tested, haven’t you?”
“Tested?”
“Harriet,” he said, giving her an artful smile, enjoying the sudden panic in her expression. “You’re not going to play coy with me, are you? You had me going for a few minutes, but now we both know why you lured me here and sank the boat. And I don’t mind telling you, I’m flattered. Would you like me to wash your back?”
“What?” Oh, Lord! He thought ... “Mr. Dunsmore—”
“Payton.”
“Mr. Dunsmore, you’ve—”
“Payton.”
“Payton, you’ve got this all wrong. It’s not like that.”
“It’s not like what?”
“I did lure you out here, but not for sex.”
“You did think to bring condoms, I hope. If you haven’t actually had the blood test done, then maybe we should be cautious until we can get you checked out,” he said, nodding sagely.
“I’ve been checked, and we won’t need any condoms,” she said, more than a bit flustered. Her cheeks felt on fire. She was so hot, she expected the bath water to start putting off steam.
“Great,” he said, grinning, his gaze lowering to her blanket of bubbles. “Want me to do your back now?”
“No. I want you to go.”
“Can’t,” he said with a shrug.
“Why not?”
“No boat.” Razzing
Similar Books
