Peter paused for a moment and winked at her in the mirror,
his face white and foamy, then returned his concentration to the
razor.
She leaned a shoulder against the edge of the door frame and
stood watching him. "I like your face smooth, it feels better on
me."
"Ouch!" Peter said, jerking the razor from his face. A dot of red
instantly formed on his chin.
"So, Lancelot," Kate said, hanging her robe on the door hook,
"what do I wear?"
"Whatever you want , it's just a neighborly thing." Peter rinsed
his face, then pulled the skin on his neck taut and inspected his
work. He saw that she was still watching him, and he took in her
full naked reflection before turning to face her.
"I think it's more than that," she said.
"What's more?"
"The dinner. I think this Mr. Holmes is probably excited that
he's met you, and wants to get to know your better."
"Well, me too. I could use a friend here. I only see you for two
or three days at a time." He crossed his arms, resting his rear
against the sink, and studied her up and down with a playful,
approving grin. "You know, for a forty-year-old lady, you're
still quite a knockout."
"Oh yeah? Well for a thirty-something boy, you're not so bad
yourself." She came over to him and slid her fingertips beneath
the waistband of his jockey shorts at the small of his back,
rubbed her cheek softly against his.
Pages:
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231