Part 162 (2/2)

waters to see if she wanted to make it a threesome, she would set him

straight quickly enough.

”I think you'll be pleased,” she began.

”Ah, but I have very high standards, Emmy luy.”

She stiffened at the sound of the pet name, but continued on. ”I tried

for moody, with a touch of arrogant.”

His breath was warm on the back of her neck. ”s.e.xy?”

Her s.h.i.+ver was quick and uncontrollable. ”Some women think arrogant is

s.e.xy.”

”And you?”

”No.” She gestured toward the prints that hung drying. ”If there's one

that suits you, I can blow it up.”

He was distracted enough by his own image to abandon the flirtation.

They'd held the shoot informally, right in the loft. He'd gone along

with the idea because Marianne had been so set on it, and because he'd

wanted a chance to ply a little of his charm on Emma. He preferred

younger women-fresh off the farm, so to speak-particularly after the

ugly breakup with his wife. She'd been thirty, sharp as a scalpel, and

p.r.o.ne to b.i.t.c.hiness whenever she'd suspected him, rightly enough, of

being unfaithful.

He enjoyed Marianne's quick enthusiasm, dry wit, and her uninhibited

responses in bed. But Emma, young, quiet Emma, was a different matter.

He'd wondered what it would be like to peel away that cool reserve.

Certain that he could. It would make her father crazy-a fact that added

<script>