He followed her into what he supposed was the living room, where he saw two women.
“This is Pixel,” Ceci said. “Pixel, Sir St—uh—Leo Clarke.”
“Just Clarke,” he said. “Or Leo.”
“And this is my Aunt Delilah,” Ceci said, indicating her aunt, who was just placing the whippet back on the floor, much to Boudica’s delight.
The woman stood up. He held out his hand but she ignored it, and before he knew it, she was holding his face in her hands, one palm on his left cheek and the other on his right. He felt his cheeks burn.
“You have enough modesty to blush,” she said as she peered into his eyes. “Not that I put any stock in modesty myself.”
He sighed, relieved when she removed her hands, but that relief was short-lived as she ran them over his shoulders. One eyebrow hiked up her forehead while her lip curled, and he thought,I can read your mind, I know what you’re thinking. If ever there was an image to convey when someone had a sly thought concerning sex, this was it.
“It’s too bad you’re wearing long sleeves,” she said, her hands simultaneously stroking and gripping his arms all the way down to his wrists. “I’d like to see these forearms.”
“Aunt Delilah!”
She placed her hand on his chest, directly over his heart, and smiled possibly the warmest, most endearing smile he’d ever seen, and without thinking, he found himself smiling back.
“I notice the black eye has almost completely healed. It’s still a mystery as to how you got it, but I hear my niece brought you back to life.” She paused. “There seems to be a lot of that going around.”
He frowned. “Huh?”
“Kissing. Done much of it yourself lately?”
His cheeks burned. He could actually feel the blood pulsating. The question in and of itself was a loaded one, but in this context, it had the arsenal of an AK-47 strapped onto it.
“Aunt Delilah, stop already!” Ceci shot him a look. “I didn’t tell her. But I swear the woman’s got ears that operate like reverse megaphones. And her hearing seems especially acute when it comes to conversations and subject matter that are none of her business. Just ignore her. She’s doing this on purpose. Trying to see how long it will take for her to get a rise out of you, probably counting the number of times she can make you blush.”
“So, this is where you get it from,” Clarke said in an even tone.
Aunt Delilah clapped her hands gleefully. “Well done! Just tell me one thing. Anything familiar about that kiss? Perhaps you could provide us with an account of it. It’s all in the interest of science. We’re conducting a sort of research project into”—she glanced over her shoulder— “what was that again, Piper?”
So Piper was her name.Pixelmust be a nickname.
“Um. The oxytocin cocktail?” she ventured. “Dopamine, serotonin, that kind of thing?”
“Exactly,” replied the aunt.
“Well, I …” He swallowed.
Am I really goingto recount that kiss?Here?To them?
He cleared his throat. “I was unconscious. And then, um …”
“Stop already, Aunt Delilah,” Ceci said. “We’re changing the subject.”
Clarke sighed.
Thank you, Ceci Rivers.
He blinked at the thought. Never in a million years could he have imagined ever having it.
“What’s your dog’s name?” Piper asked.
“Holly.”
Ceci tilted her head, eyeing him warily. “Just Holly?”
