Jean held up a hand before he could stammer himself into a knot. “Don’t get any funny ideas. I’m not going to touch your snake.”
“I don’t have any snakes with me, Jean.” His tone was deadly serious. “It’s illegal to bring them into Hawaii. They would decimate the bird population. I’m sure you know what happened in Guam—oh.” Something in her expression must have clued him in. “You weren’t talking about that kind of snake.”
She shook her head. “But I wouldn’t mind hearing more. Since you’re clearly an expert.”
“I don’t know aboutthat. I don’t even have a PhD.” If he’d been wearing something more substantial than a towel, he would undoubtedly have stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels.
“If you say so.” Jean set the remaining towels on the teak credenza that served no purpose other than filling half the wall and turned to go. “Maybe I’ll teach you a real game.” She tipped her head at his abandoned cards. “If you’re still here.”
“Jean,” he said, as she started for the door. “You won’t tell anyone, will you?”
“That you play naked solitaire?”
He shook his head. “That I’m staying here.”
That dialed her interest up several notches. “Secrets are myfavorite food group.” Also, it would be hard to expose the presence of someone whose name she still didn’t know, though she suspected it wouldn’t take much to tease the information out of him. For now, she preferred to maintain the air of mystery, so she mimed locking her lips and throwing away the key.
“Jean?” he said again, when she was at the door.
She glanced over her shoulder, watching him scramble for an excuse to keep her there a little longer.
“Thanks for the towels.”
“My pleasure,” she replied, with extra sauciness.
“It was nice meeting you,” he mumbled, blushing some more. Talk about an open book.
“It was, wasn’t it?”
Snake Boy bit his lower lip, fighting a smile. “So tomorrow, maybe?” He looked around the living room with a frown. “I should straighten up.”
Jean pictured him fussing with a feather duster, then arranging bowls of mixed nuts—preferably still in the towel. It was an undeniably appealing image, but she didn’t want to make it too easy on him.
His eyes locked on her as she took several slow steps in his direction. She watched his nostrils flare, pretty sure he was sneaking a hit of her perfume.
“No promises, Mr. Clean. I might get a better offer. Maybe there’s an even more naked spider scientist behind one of these doors.”
“Arachnologist,” he murmured, frowning. Jean thought he must be jealous of his imaginary rival, until he went on. “How could someone be more naked? Oh!” Letting go of the towel, he scraped his hair back from his forehead. “If they were bald.”
Jean dragged her eyes from the hip bones exposed by his sagging towel, nodding as if she’d had the exact same thought. Of course a bald spiderologist would be even more nude. That was just logic.
“If you do come back,” he started to say, before breaking off.
She raised an eyebrow.
“I’ll be here.” He pressed his lips together as though afraid of what might slip out. “That’s all.”
Another step brought her within touching range. He tensed as she raised a hand, slowly drawing a finger over the left side of his chest, one short line bisected by another in the opposite direction. The pounding under his skin suggested she’d found the right spot, the rapid beat mirroring the spike in her pulse at the moment of contact.
“You forgot to cross your heart.” Spinning on her heel, Jean left him to his thoughts. She had a hunch a lot of them would be about her.
That and snakes, obviously.
“The Lost Weekend”
byADRIANAASEBEDO
Like salt to the sea
