you
have a really awesome bod.”
With her staring like that, he
was bound to get bigger by the second. Spencer touched her chin to raise her
gaze. “I think your body is appealing, too.”
Snorting, she said, “I’m not
running around wet and topless.”
Thank God. Fighting a smile at
his own discomfort, Spencer said, “You could give it a try—”
“Ha!” She snatched up her duffel
and turned away. “Hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to make use of your
shower before the electricity goes out.”
Arizona. In his shower. Naked
and soap slick…
“Make it quick,” he said to her
retreating back. “It’s not safe with all the lightning—”
His bathroom door closed while
he was still midsentence.
Well, hell.
With no more reason for modesty,
Spencer stripped off his jeans there in the foyer and carried everything
into the laundry room, where he also peeled off his boxers and socks.
Wrapped in the towel, he went to the more private bath in his bedroom. His
shower would be cold, and then maybe, after he’d gotten his libido under
control, he and Arizona could go over their plans for tomorrow.
And with any luck, she’d trust
him enough to explain the weapons in her trunk and the forbidding inclusion
of a shovel.
* * *
A FTER A DRAWN - OUT SHOWER that did nothing to ease her growing tension, Arizona brushed her teeth,
blow-dried her hair and dressed in a big gray T-shirt with loose-legged,
pull-on shorts. Normally she slept in just a T-shirt and panties, but since
she’d be sharing this night with Spencer, she made a concession for
modesty.
She tidied up the bathroom
again, storing her discarded clothing back in her duffel and leaving no sign
that she’d been in there. Spencer wasn’t neat to the point of annoying, but
he did keep things clean and uncluttered.
She loved his house, and the
bathroom was especially cool with the vintage-looking black-and-white tiles.
The towels matched the shower curtain matched the window covering matched
the decorative pictures and knickknacks.
His wife must’ve been a real
homebody. Arizona imagined her in an apron, baking cookies with a sweet
smile.
No wonder Spencer loved her. No
wonder, even after three years, he couldn’t get over losing her.
Knowing she’d taken up as much
time as she could, Arizona stopped avoiding the inevitable and opened the
bathroom door.
Barefoot, she went in search of
Spencer and found him sprawled back on the couch in the living room,
watching TV and drinking a longneck beer. At the sound of her approach he
turned his head—and went still in that way men did while appreciating the
sight of a woman.
He fought it, but his attention
went over her, snagging on her legs for several heart-stopping seconds
before coming back to her face.
It should have made her
uncomfortable to be looked at like that. Before Spencer, it always
had.
Now…now she didn’t know what she
felt, but it definitely wasn’t discomfort. Spencer wasn’t like other men
she’d known. He wasn’t a disgusting creep like the animals who’d taken her,
or those who’d paid for her time. But he didn’t deny her sexuality, either,
as Jackson, Dare and Trace tried to do.
Mostly…he just seemed to accept
her. And like her.
“Hey.” She strode past him,
going around the coffee table to put her duffel by the front door where he’d
left her laptop case. With Spencer still watching her, she came back to plop
down on the other end of the couch.
He stared toward where she’d
dropped off the bag, then back to her with a question in his
eyes.
Propping her feet on the edge of
the table, Arizona controlled her smile and stared at the television. “So
what are we watching?”
Silence tripped by. She could
feel his rapt attention touching on her, all over her.
She made herself look at him
with a raised brow. “Cat got your tongue?”
Shaking his head, he again
glanced at her bag but apparently decided not to ask why she’d put it near
the door. “Sorry.”
have a really awesome bod.”
With her staring like that, he
was bound to get bigger by the second. Spencer touched her chin to raise her
gaze. “I think your body is appealing, too.”
Snorting, she said, “I’m not
running around wet and topless.”
Thank God. Fighting a smile at
his own discomfort, Spencer said, “You could give it a try—”
“Ha!” She snatched up her duffel
and turned away. “Hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to make use of your
shower before the electricity goes out.”
Arizona. In his shower. Naked
and soap slick…
“Make it quick,” he said to her
retreating back. “It’s not safe with all the lightning—”
His bathroom door closed while
he was still midsentence.
Well, hell.
With no more reason for modesty,
Spencer stripped off his jeans there in the foyer and carried everything
into the laundry room, where he also peeled off his boxers and socks.
Wrapped in the towel, he went to the more private bath in his bedroom. His
shower would be cold, and then maybe, after he’d gotten his libido under
control, he and Arizona could go over their plans for tomorrow.
And with any luck, she’d trust
him enough to explain the weapons in her trunk and the forbidding inclusion
of a shovel.
* * *
A FTER A DRAWN - OUT SHOWER that did nothing to ease her growing tension, Arizona brushed her teeth,
blow-dried her hair and dressed in a big gray T-shirt with loose-legged,
pull-on shorts. Normally she slept in just a T-shirt and panties, but since
she’d be sharing this night with Spencer, she made a concession for
modesty.
She tidied up the bathroom
again, storing her discarded clothing back in her duffel and leaving no sign
that she’d been in there. Spencer wasn’t neat to the point of annoying, but
he did keep things clean and uncluttered.
She loved his house, and the
bathroom was especially cool with the vintage-looking black-and-white tiles.
The towels matched the shower curtain matched the window covering matched
the decorative pictures and knickknacks.
His wife must’ve been a real
homebody. Arizona imagined her in an apron, baking cookies with a sweet
smile.
No wonder Spencer loved her. No
wonder, even after three years, he couldn’t get over losing her.
Knowing she’d taken up as much
time as she could, Arizona stopped avoiding the inevitable and opened the
bathroom door.
Barefoot, she went in search of
Spencer and found him sprawled back on the couch in the living room,
watching TV and drinking a longneck beer. At the sound of her approach he
turned his head—and went still in that way men did while appreciating the
sight of a woman.
He fought it, but his attention
went over her, snagging on her legs for several heart-stopping seconds
before coming back to her face.
It should have made her
uncomfortable to be looked at like that. Before Spencer, it always
had.
Now…now she didn’t know what she
felt, but it definitely wasn’t discomfort. Spencer wasn’t like other men
she’d known. He wasn’t a disgusting creep like the animals who’d taken her,
or those who’d paid for her time. But he didn’t deny her sexuality, either,
as Jackson, Dare and Trace tried to do.
Mostly…he just seemed to accept
her. And like her.
“Hey.” She strode past him,
going around the coffee table to put her duffel by the front door where he’d
left her laptop case. With Spencer still watching her, she came back to plop
down on the other end of the couch.
He stared toward where she’d
dropped off the bag, then back to her with a question in his
eyes.
Propping her feet on the edge of
the table, Arizona controlled her smile and stared at the television. “So
what are we watching?”
Silence tripped by. She could
feel his rapt attention touching on her, all over her.
She made herself look at him
with a raised brow. “Cat got your tongue?”
Shaking his head, he again
glanced at her bag but apparently decided not to ask why she’d put it near
the door. “Sorry.”
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