Page 76 of Hot & Heavy

If he hadn't been surprised before, he sure was now. "Why?"

"The lady in the clothes mart yesterday told me that women shave their legs and armpits in this country. I would like to try it."

Incredible! "I've never shaved a woman's legs before."

"You shave your face. It must be the same thing."

Not in a Navy minute! "Not really."

"I could ask Pretty Boy when he comes next time. Since he painted my toenails, I'm sure he—"

Over my dead body. "I'll do it, dammit!"

Rub a dub dub…

Maddie was sitting on the closed toilet seat, with one leg propped up on the edge of the sink vanity.

He had been putting hot water in the sink and laying out a towel when he turned and groaned. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

"Because I took off my jeans? Tsk-tsk! Think about it. How are you going to shave my legs if they are covered?"

How am I going to stop looking at that shadowy area barely covered by your panties? He wet her leg with a hot washcloth, soaped it up with shaving cream, ankle to never-never-land. For just a second, he closed his eyes and relished the sensation of, well, feeling up Maddie's leg. He inhaled and exhaled for strength—which was a lost cause. His favorite body part was practically drooling over Maddie's long, long legs. Then he hunkered down and began to shave knee to ankle. "I don't know why you want to do this. Your leg hair is so light, you can hardly see it."

"But you can feel it."

Damn straight I can.

"You mentioned your father earlier today. Why was he here in Caliph-ornery-ah? Why did he not come to your home?"

At first he bristled, not wanting to discuss the old man. But he had to think about something other than the burning question: Did she want him to give her a bikini cut? "Yeah, my father was there. The bastard!"

"That is an awful way to speak of your father."

"He deserves it. Hell, Maddie, he was partly responsible for this mission we're starting on."

"Is this not what seals do?"

"Yes, but… you have to know our history. I'm the oldest in my family, and the biggest disappointment to him. No matter what I do to please him, it's never good enough."

"Like what?"

"Well, I was a senior master chief for years, a Navy rate that fitted me perfectly. I was successful there, but not by his standards. He badgered and badgered and badgered till I went to officers' candidate school and became a junior-grade lieutenant and then a full lieutenant. Then he decided that wasn't enough. He started badgering me to accept a desk job in D.C." He looked up at her and saw the sympathy on her face, as well as confusion. "You didn't understand a word I said, did you?"

"Not the separate words, but the whole of it, yes, I did. Your father wants you to be something you cannot be. In truth, I would guess he wants you to be him."

He was surprised that she'd been able to cut to the heart of the problem between him and his father.

"Bingo!" he said, then put one of her legs down, and lifted the other. I cannot believe I am shaving the legs of a half-naked woman, and I'm talking about my father. I must have the libido of an earthworm. Well, no, that's not precisely true. I have the libido. I just have iron control. Someone ought to give me a medal. I could pin it right below my Budweiser, the SEAL trident pin. I can see it now. Some admiral or other, maybe even my dad— horror of horrors— would pin the medal on and say something like, "Great job, MacLean. You could teach all the rest of us how to keep it in our pants."

"At least you are smiling now."

I am? Hell, it takes a lot to make me smile after thinking about my dad.

"Tell me about the others in your family."

She is like a puppy tugging on a pant leg. Tug, tug, tug… till she finally gets what she wants. He sighed. "My mother died a long time ago, when I was a kid."

"Mine, too."