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“I have three brothers. I changed their diapers and helped them dress for school. You don’t have anything that will surprise me, Daniel.”
Daniel grinned at her in a way he hoped made her even more nervous than she already was.
She glared at him. “Sir.”
“You’re submitting to me for the next two hours,” he reminded her. “When you submit to me, you call me, ‘sir.’Comprenez, ma petite?”
“Your accent is terrible.”
“You forgot to call me ‘sir.’”
She was silent a moment. “I don’t want to do that again.”
“Why not?” he asked softly. “Didn’t like it?”
She didn’t say anything at first. Then, finally, “I think I liked it too much.”
“Too much?”
“It’s not good for me to like it so much.”
No, he supposed it wasn’t. It wasn’t good for him to like her so much, either. Off-limits, he reminded himself. Well, this was going to be awkward.
“All right,” he said, shutting the water off now that the tub had filled. “Call me Daniel then.”
“Daniel,” she repeated. Somehow she managed to sound deferential just saying his name.
“Good. Now undress me.”
Anya’s eyes went wide—comically wide—but she didn’t object. Instead, she crossed the floor so slowly, so gingerly, one would have thought she’d been walking barefoot across broken glass. It took everything he had not to laugh out loud at her nervousness.
Slowly Anya reached out and laid her hands flat on his stomach. Curling her fingers, she grasped the fabric of his sweat-stained t-shirt.
“You have beautiful hands,” Daniel said, noticing for the first time her delicate fingers, so graceful and well-formed.
She shook her head. “I don’t. See?” She released his shirt and turned her hands over letting him see her palms. All over her fingertips he saw small calluses and pinpricks from her sewing needles.
Daniel took her gently by the wrists and raised her hands to chest height. “Still beautiful…but you work too hard.”
He lifted one hand to his lips and kissed the center of her palm. Anya breathed in sharply as his mouth met her skin. Under his thumb he could feel the rapid beating of her pulse.
“Now…continue.” He reluctantly released her wrists, and she once again grasped the fabric of his t-shirt.
“You’re disgusting, Daniel.” She started to pull the shirt upward. “What were you doing?”
“Running.”
“Fou.Madness.”
“Exercise.”
“Was someone chasing you?”
“Not that I saw.”
“Then yes, madness. Lift your arms,s’il vous plaît.”
Daniel didn’t move a muscle.
