that feverish interlude. It had been so sweet that she’d wanted it again and that could be dangerous. Each time it got harder to stop. Today she hadn’t been able to do anything except follow where he led, and it was like some heady alcoholic beverage—she just couldn’t get enough of him. She didn’t really know what to do anymore. Her life seemed to be tangled up in complications.
She laid out a soft pink gown on the bed—a warm but revealing one with a low neckline—and fingered it lovingly. It had been an impulse purchase, something to cheer her up on a depressing Saturday when she had been alone. It was made of flannelette, but it was lacy and expensive, and she loved the way it felt and clung to the slender lines of her body.
She ran a bath in the big Jacuzzi and turned on the jets after filling the tub with fragrant soap that was provided, along with anything else a feminine guest might need, in the pretty blue-tiled bathroom. To Mari, who lived in a small efficiency apartment in Atlanta, it was really plush. She frowned as she stripped off her clothing and climbed into the smooth tub with its relaxing jets of water surging around her. The apartment rent was due in a week or so, and she hadn’t paid it yet. She’d have to send a check. She also wished that she’d brought more clothes with her. She hadn’t counted on being here for life, but it looked as if Ward wasn’t in any hurry to let her go.
Too, there was Lillian, who was behaving herself only as long as her niece was around to make her. If Mari left, what would happen to the older woman? With Ward away on business so often, it was dangerous for Lillian to be left alone now. Perhaps Ward had considered that, and it was why he wanted Mari to stay. The real reason, anyway. He didn’t seem to be dying of love for her, although his desire was apparent. He wanted her.
With all her turbulent thoughts and the humming sound of the Jacuzzi, she didn’t hear the door to her room open or hear it close again. She didn’t hear the soft footfalls on the carpet, or the soft sound that came from a particularly male voice as Ward saw her sitting up in the tub with her pretty pink breasts bare and glistening with soap and water.
She happened to glance up then and saw him. She couldn’t move. His green eyes were steady and loving on the soft curves of her body, and with horror she felt the tips of her breasts harden under his intent scrutiny.
He shook his head when she started to lift her hands to them. “No,” he said gently, moving toward her. “No, don’t cover them, Mari.”
She could hardly get her breath. Although she’d never let anyone see her like this in all her life, she couldn’t stop him. Mari couldn’t seem to move at all. He towered over her, still and somber, and as she watched, he began to roll up the sleeves of the white shirt that was open halfway down his chest. He’d long ago shed his jacket and tie, although he was still wearing dress boots and suit trousers. He looked expensive and very masculine and disturbing, and as he bent beside the tub, she caught the scent of luxurious cologne.
“You mustn’t!” she began frantically.
But he picked up the big fluffy sponge she’d soaped and shook his head, smiling faintly. “Think of it as a service for a special, tired guest,” he whispered amusedly, although his eyes were frankly possessive. “Lie back and enjoy it.”
She started to protest again, but he didn’t pay the least attention. One lean hand moved behind her neck to support her in the bubbling water while the other slowly, painstakingly, drew the sponge over every soft line and curve of her body.
She hadn’t realized how many nerve endings she had, but he found every single one. In a silence that throbbed with new sensation, he bathed her, pausing now and again to put the sponge down and touch her, experience the softness of her skin with the added silkiness of soap and water making it vibrantly alive.
Her eyes
She laid out a soft pink gown on the bed—a warm but revealing one with a low neckline—and fingered it lovingly. It had been an impulse purchase, something to cheer her up on a depressing Saturday when she had been alone. It was made of flannelette, but it was lacy and expensive, and she loved the way it felt and clung to the slender lines of her body.
She ran a bath in the big Jacuzzi and turned on the jets after filling the tub with fragrant soap that was provided, along with anything else a feminine guest might need, in the pretty blue-tiled bathroom. To Mari, who lived in a small efficiency apartment in Atlanta, it was really plush. She frowned as she stripped off her clothing and climbed into the smooth tub with its relaxing jets of water surging around her. The apartment rent was due in a week or so, and she hadn’t paid it yet. She’d have to send a check. She also wished that she’d brought more clothes with her. She hadn’t counted on being here for life, but it looked as if Ward wasn’t in any hurry to let her go.
Too, there was Lillian, who was behaving herself only as long as her niece was around to make her. If Mari left, what would happen to the older woman? With Ward away on business so often, it was dangerous for Lillian to be left alone now. Perhaps Ward had considered that, and it was why he wanted Mari to stay. The real reason, anyway. He didn’t seem to be dying of love for her, although his desire was apparent. He wanted her.
With all her turbulent thoughts and the humming sound of the Jacuzzi, she didn’t hear the door to her room open or hear it close again. She didn’t hear the soft footfalls on the carpet, or the soft sound that came from a particularly male voice as Ward saw her sitting up in the tub with her pretty pink breasts bare and glistening with soap and water.
She happened to glance up then and saw him. She couldn’t move. His green eyes were steady and loving on the soft curves of her body, and with horror she felt the tips of her breasts harden under his intent scrutiny.
He shook his head when she started to lift her hands to them. “No,” he said gently, moving toward her. “No, don’t cover them, Mari.”
She could hardly get her breath. Although she’d never let anyone see her like this in all her life, she couldn’t stop him. Mari couldn’t seem to move at all. He towered over her, still and somber, and as she watched, he began to roll up the sleeves of the white shirt that was open halfway down his chest. He’d long ago shed his jacket and tie, although he was still wearing dress boots and suit trousers. He looked expensive and very masculine and disturbing, and as he bent beside the tub, she caught the scent of luxurious cologne.
“You mustn’t!” she began frantically.
But he picked up the big fluffy sponge she’d soaped and shook his head, smiling faintly. “Think of it as a service for a special, tired guest,” he whispered amusedly, although his eyes were frankly possessive. “Lie back and enjoy it.”
She started to protest again, but he didn’t pay the least attention. One lean hand moved behind her neck to support her in the bubbling water while the other slowly, painstakingly, drew the sponge over every soft line and curve of her body.
She hadn’t realized how many nerve endings she had, but he found every single one. In a silence that throbbed with new sensation, he bathed her, pausing now and again to put the sponge down and touch her, experience the softness of her skin with the added silkiness of soap and water making it vibrantly alive.
Her eyes
Similar Books
