Read Online Just Imagine by Susan Elizabeth Phillips - Free Book Online
Authors: Susan Elizabeth Phillips
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did it again.
Kit couldn't believe what was happening. He didn't keep her under long enough to drown her, but that didn't matter. It was the indignity. And if she couldn't hold her tongue, she'd be going under again. She glared at him as she came up, but she somehow managed to keep silent.
"Had enough yet?" he asked mildly.
She wiped her eyes and mustered her dignity. "Your behavior is puerile."
He began to smile, only to stop as he gazed into the tub.
That was when she realized that she'd lost her towel.
She drew up her knees to hide her body. "You get out of here right now!" Water splashed over the rim as she tried to retrieve the towel from the bottom of the tub.
He took a quick backward step toward the door, then stopped.
She hovered over her knees and struggled with the sodden towel.
He cleared his throat. "Can you, uh, take it from here?"
She thought she detected a flush spreading over those hard cheekbones. She nodded and yanked at the heavy towel.
"I'll get one of my shirts for you to put on. But if I find a speck of dirt when you're finished, we'll start all over again."
He disappeared without closing the door. She gritted her teeth and imagined buzzards eating his eyeballs.
She washed herself twice, dislodging grime that had been comfortably residing in the nooks and crannies of her body for some time. Then she scrubbed her hair. When she was finally satisfied that even Jesus's Mother couldn't find any dirt on her, she stood to grab a dry towel but saw that the tub was surrounded with broken glass like a moat around a medieval castle.
This was what came of taking baths.
She cussed as she wrapped the sodden towel around herself, then shouted toward the open door. "Listen up, Yankee! I need you to throw me a dry towel, but you'd better keep your eyes shut, or I swear I'll murder you in your sleep, then cut you open and eat your liver for breakfast."
"It's nice to know that soap and water haven't spoiled your sweet disposition." He reappeared in the doorway, eyes wide open. "I was worried about that."
"Yeah, well, you just worry about holdin' onto your internal organs."
He grabbed a towel from the shelf across the bathroom, but instead of handing it to her like a decent person, he gazed down at the broken glass. " Every faculty which is a receiver of pleasure has an equal penalty for its abuse . Ralph Waldo Emerson, in case you don't recognize the quote."
Only after he'd passed over the towel did she feel safe in responding. "Mr. Emerson also wrote, Every hero becomes a bore at last . If I didn't know better, I'd think you inspired those very words."
Cain chuckled, somehow glad to see she still had her spirit. She was thin as a filly, all bony arms and long, skinny legs. Even the hint of dark fleece he'd glimpsed when her towel had fallen off in the tub had been somehow childlike.
As he turned away, he remembered her small, coral-tipped breasts. They'd seemed less innocent. The image made him uncomfortable, and he spoke more gruffly than he intended. "Are you dry yet?"
"Dry as I'm goin' to get with you standin' there."
"Wrap up. I'm turning around."
"And here I was just thinkin' how nice it is not having to look at your ugly face."
Aggravated, he stalked over to the tub. "I should make you walk through this glass in your bare feet."
"Couldn't be any more painful than enduring your bumptious company."
He snatched her from the tub, carried her out into the hall, and set her hard on her feet. "I put a shirt in your bedroom. Tomorrow Mrs. Simmons will take you shopping for some decent clothes."
She regarded him suspiciously, "just what do you consider decent clothes?"
He knew what was coming next, and he braced himself. "Dresses, Kit."
"Have you lost your mind ?"
She looked so outraged that he nearly smiled, but he wasn't that stupid. Time to draw in the reins. "You heard me. And while I'm gone, you'll do exactly what Mrs. Simmons tells you. If you give her any trouble, I'm leaving orders with
Kit couldn't believe what was happening. He didn't keep her under long enough to drown her, but that didn't matter. It was the indignity. And if she couldn't hold her tongue, she'd be going under again. She glared at him as she came up, but she somehow managed to keep silent.
"Had enough yet?" he asked mildly.
She wiped her eyes and mustered her dignity. "Your behavior is puerile."
He began to smile, only to stop as he gazed into the tub.
That was when she realized that she'd lost her towel.
She drew up her knees to hide her body. "You get out of here right now!" Water splashed over the rim as she tried to retrieve the towel from the bottom of the tub.
He took a quick backward step toward the door, then stopped.
She hovered over her knees and struggled with the sodden towel.
He cleared his throat. "Can you, uh, take it from here?"
She thought she detected a flush spreading over those hard cheekbones. She nodded and yanked at the heavy towel.
"I'll get one of my shirts for you to put on. But if I find a speck of dirt when you're finished, we'll start all over again."
He disappeared without closing the door. She gritted her teeth and imagined buzzards eating his eyeballs.
She washed herself twice, dislodging grime that had been comfortably residing in the nooks and crannies of her body for some time. Then she scrubbed her hair. When she was finally satisfied that even Jesus's Mother couldn't find any dirt on her, she stood to grab a dry towel but saw that the tub was surrounded with broken glass like a moat around a medieval castle.
This was what came of taking baths.
She cussed as she wrapped the sodden towel around herself, then shouted toward the open door. "Listen up, Yankee! I need you to throw me a dry towel, but you'd better keep your eyes shut, or I swear I'll murder you in your sleep, then cut you open and eat your liver for breakfast."
"It's nice to know that soap and water haven't spoiled your sweet disposition." He reappeared in the doorway, eyes wide open. "I was worried about that."
"Yeah, well, you just worry about holdin' onto your internal organs."
He grabbed a towel from the shelf across the bathroom, but instead of handing it to her like a decent person, he gazed down at the broken glass. " Every faculty which is a receiver of pleasure has an equal penalty for its abuse . Ralph Waldo Emerson, in case you don't recognize the quote."
Only after he'd passed over the towel did she feel safe in responding. "Mr. Emerson also wrote, Every hero becomes a bore at last . If I didn't know better, I'd think you inspired those very words."
Cain chuckled, somehow glad to see she still had her spirit. She was thin as a filly, all bony arms and long, skinny legs. Even the hint of dark fleece he'd glimpsed when her towel had fallen off in the tub had been somehow childlike.
As he turned away, he remembered her small, coral-tipped breasts. They'd seemed less innocent. The image made him uncomfortable, and he spoke more gruffly than he intended. "Are you dry yet?"
"Dry as I'm goin' to get with you standin' there."
"Wrap up. I'm turning around."
"And here I was just thinkin' how nice it is not having to look at your ugly face."
Aggravated, he stalked over to the tub. "I should make you walk through this glass in your bare feet."
"Couldn't be any more painful than enduring your bumptious company."
He snatched her from the tub, carried her out into the hall, and set her hard on her feet. "I put a shirt in your bedroom. Tomorrow Mrs. Simmons will take you shopping for some decent clothes."
She regarded him suspiciously, "just what do you consider decent clothes?"
He knew what was coming next, and he braced himself. "Dresses, Kit."
"Have you lost your mind ?"
She looked so outraged that he nearly smiled, but he wasn't that stupid. Time to draw in the reins. "You heard me. And while I'm gone, you'll do exactly what Mrs. Simmons tells you. If you give her any trouble, I'm leaving orders with
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