“Not of Princess Merneith.”
“You don’t believe in the curse of the
I went to the glass door and peered out. Fraser Fortune’s entire film crew seemed to be splashing and kicking the pool into a miniature whirlpool. I guess their presence wasn’t that much of a coincidence. There were only two hotels in Lasse and one of them looked like a home for old hookers.
I caught sight of Fraser in a pair of tight black Speedos.
What was up with
He surfaced, swam to the side, hauled himself out of the pool. Water sparkled on his hair and skin. I absently reached down and gave myself a comforting squeeze—which nearly turned into the most embarrassing moment of my life when Fraser suddenly looked over at my window.
Could he see me? The balcony of the room above my own threw my porch into shade. Hopefully the glass door was in deep shadow.
Fraser raised his hand. “Hey, Doc! Come on out.”
I fumbled with the latch and slid open the door. The hum and rattle of the pool pump and the smell of chlorine and Lycra wafted in.
Fraser padded over to the short wooden fence separating my mini-patio from the pool yard. “I thought that was your car in the parking lot. Why don’t you come out and join us?” He smiled, his teeth very white in the gold frame of his beard.
My throat tightened in unexpected response to his wet nakedness. Other things tightened too.
What on earth…? It wasn’t as though I’d never seen a naked—nearly naked—man before. It wasn’t as though I was seventeen. It wasn’t even as though I liked Fraser. It wasn’t any of the above, and yet there was no question that my body was reacting like a damn divining rod.
Karen and a couple of the others called out from the pool, echoing the invitation.
I shook my head. “No swimsuit.”
Fraser’s smile widened. “Wear your underwear. We won’t tell.”
I laughed, shaking my head again. “I’ve got a lot of work to do.”