them off when I’m ready. Either you do it, or I’ll do it for you.”
Shock? Yes. Emotional shock as a result of severe mental pressure. That must explain the strange sensations she was feeling. Her legs felt weak, her thoughts fuzzy. She couldn’t even lift her arms to unzip her parka.
Across the room Cade slid out of the damp slicker and let it fall to the floor. He looked around, spotted the bathroom door, and turned on the shower inside. Back at the bed he lifted Rusty and carried her into the bathroom, already filled with steam.
Before she could protest what was happening,Cade had stripped off her jacket and shirt and was sliding her jeans down her legs.
“McCall? This wasn’t part of our agreement.”
“We haven’t signed an agreement yet, Redhead, and you don’t know what terms I may insist on. I have to do something to earn my keep. I’m no cowboy, you know. I think, however, that I could be a very good lady’s maid.”
“I don’t think that you have any experience at that either,” she said dreamily. “But you can learn.”
Maybe, but first Cade would have to learn control. As Rusty’s body came into view, he felt his insides contract. Her breasts spilled over the edge of a lacy red bra that had to have been designed to drive a man wild. The matching panties were heart-stopping. The lingerie looked new. He smiled. He liked a woman who wore silk beneath denim, especially when its color was hot red.
Cade swallowed hard and picked Rusty up, placing her inside the shower stall.
“Oh, no, McCall. If I have to get wet, so do you.” With an attempt at being stern, Rusty reached out and jerked a surprised Cade under the spray.
“Listen, you,” he began, “you’re wetting my boots, and I just bought them.”
“Oh? You bought a pair of boots?” She looked down at the shower floor. “So you did. You didn’t have to do that. I guess I ought to tell you as my husband-to-be that I intend to keep you barefoot and—no, that’s how you keep a woman, isn’t it? Well, no matter, we’ll improvise.”
Her improvising was reaching mercurial heights when Cade became aware of a pounding on the bathroom door.
“Are you in there, Rusty Wilder?” Letty’s voice was marine drill-sergeant intense.
“Of course,” Rusty said with a lilt in her voice. “Cade’s taking off my clothes.”
The door burst open. “He’s what?”
“I was trying to warm her up,” Cade explained. “She crashed the plane into the hangar, and I think she may be suffering from shock.”
“Nonsense, McCall. I’m suffering from frustration, and I’m doing something about it.”
“Not today you aren’t,” Letty said forcefully, giving Cade a jerk of her head that indicated he should vamoose.
“I think I’ll let you take over, Letty,” he agreed, and backed out of the bathroom before Rusty completely overpowered him. “Ah, Letty, where is my room?”
“Same place as this one, on the other wing of the house,” she answered. “And I’m thinking it’s a good thing. Out of here, now, before I decide to take off your clothes and turn the cold water on you full blast.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Red underwear!” she was grumbling in mock dismay. “Never worn red underwear in your life. What else did you do to get ready for a husband while you were in Salt Lake City, Willadean Wilder?”
Cade closed the bedroom door, a big foolish grin slashing his face. Sloshing down the hall, Cade decided that a cold shower wasn’t a bad idea. But he might want to wait for a while. Right now, all Letty would get if she doused him was steam.
Rusty opened her eyes, glanced over at the clock, and groaned. The sun was streaming through thewindow. It took her a moment to realize where she was: In bed, covered with two quilts and a spread.
She groaned.
Surely she’d been dreaming. Surely she wasn’t remembering what had happened.
Everything from the night before had a surrealistic quality about it. Before she’d left Salt
Shock? Yes. Emotional shock as a result of severe mental pressure. That must explain the strange sensations she was feeling. Her legs felt weak, her thoughts fuzzy. She couldn’t even lift her arms to unzip her parka.
Across the room Cade slid out of the damp slicker and let it fall to the floor. He looked around, spotted the bathroom door, and turned on the shower inside. Back at the bed he lifted Rusty and carried her into the bathroom, already filled with steam.
Before she could protest what was happening,Cade had stripped off her jacket and shirt and was sliding her jeans down her legs.
“McCall? This wasn’t part of our agreement.”
“We haven’t signed an agreement yet, Redhead, and you don’t know what terms I may insist on. I have to do something to earn my keep. I’m no cowboy, you know. I think, however, that I could be a very good lady’s maid.”
“I don’t think that you have any experience at that either,” she said dreamily. “But you can learn.”
Maybe, but first Cade would have to learn control. As Rusty’s body came into view, he felt his insides contract. Her breasts spilled over the edge of a lacy red bra that had to have been designed to drive a man wild. The matching panties were heart-stopping. The lingerie looked new. He smiled. He liked a woman who wore silk beneath denim, especially when its color was hot red.
Cade swallowed hard and picked Rusty up, placing her inside the shower stall.
“Oh, no, McCall. If I have to get wet, so do you.” With an attempt at being stern, Rusty reached out and jerked a surprised Cade under the spray.
“Listen, you,” he began, “you’re wetting my boots, and I just bought them.”
“Oh? You bought a pair of boots?” She looked down at the shower floor. “So you did. You didn’t have to do that. I guess I ought to tell you as my husband-to-be that I intend to keep you barefoot and—no, that’s how you keep a woman, isn’t it? Well, no matter, we’ll improvise.”
Her improvising was reaching mercurial heights when Cade became aware of a pounding on the bathroom door.
“Are you in there, Rusty Wilder?” Letty’s voice was marine drill-sergeant intense.
“Of course,” Rusty said with a lilt in her voice. “Cade’s taking off my clothes.”
The door burst open. “He’s what?”
“I was trying to warm her up,” Cade explained. “She crashed the plane into the hangar, and I think she may be suffering from shock.”
“Nonsense, McCall. I’m suffering from frustration, and I’m doing something about it.”
“Not today you aren’t,” Letty said forcefully, giving Cade a jerk of her head that indicated he should vamoose.
“I think I’ll let you take over, Letty,” he agreed, and backed out of the bathroom before Rusty completely overpowered him. “Ah, Letty, where is my room?”
“Same place as this one, on the other wing of the house,” she answered. “And I’m thinking it’s a good thing. Out of here, now, before I decide to take off your clothes and turn the cold water on you full blast.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Red underwear!” she was grumbling in mock dismay. “Never worn red underwear in your life. What else did you do to get ready for a husband while you were in Salt Lake City, Willadean Wilder?”
Cade closed the bedroom door, a big foolish grin slashing his face. Sloshing down the hall, Cade decided that a cold shower wasn’t a bad idea. But he might want to wait for a while. Right now, all Letty would get if she doused him was steam.
Rusty opened her eyes, glanced over at the clock, and groaned. The sun was streaming through thewindow. It took her a moment to realize where she was: In bed, covered with two quilts and a spread.
She groaned.
Surely she’d been dreaming. Surely she wasn’t remembering what had happened.
Everything from the night before had a surrealistic quality about it. Before she’d left Salt
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