Longarm 234 - Longarm and the Renegade Assassins by Tabor Evans

Author:Tabor Evans [Evans, Tabor]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780515122923
Google: ph0hIXly5qEC
Amazon: B007HF9VL0
Publisher: Berkley Publishing Group
Published: 1998-06-01T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22

“No, now let go of me for a minute, Custis. I have to get out of this uniform.”

“That’s pretty much what I had in mind too,” he confessed with a wink and a wicked leer.

Deborah laughed. And gave him a love tap on the head that damn near buckled his knees. He hated to think what it would feel like if she ever whacked him while she was pissed off. Likely it would knock him clean off his feet and send him ass-over-teacup rolling into the next room. All in all, he decided, it was a supposition he would rather not test in actual fact.

“Not before I have my bath, Custis. You know that.”

He nodded. Deborah was nothing if not clean. She was fanatical about it. Probably it had something to do with her training as a nurse, he suspected, but the first thing she always insisted on when she came away from work was getting herself scrubbed clean. And not just a spit-and-dab job of it either. She had to have herself a proper tub bath, and there wouldn’t be any peace to be found here if he tried to distract her or cozy her out of it. This was a gal who knew how to satisfy a man—which he was pretty sure had nothing at all to do with being a nurse, but a lot with being one hell of a woman—but she wouldn’t allow a finger on her, hardly, until she’d taken her bath.

“Do you need some help?”

“You can draw some water for me. It should be hot by now.”

Longarm went off to find the bucket while Deborah wrestled the slipper-shaped copper tub out of the kitchen pantry where she stored it during the day.

She didn’t need any help dragging it out onto the floor, heavy though it was, while he filled the bucket with water from the reservoir built onto the side of the wood box on the kitchen range. At least Longarm supposed it was still called that, even though Deborah burned coal in her stove. That was a question that had never occurred to him before. Anyway, he carried water to the tub until the reservoir was empty, then used the small pump built conveniently right onto the kitchen sink to draw more water, first to refill the hot water reservoir so it would be ready for the next time, then to add cold water to the tub until Deborah told him the temperature of the bath-water was to her liking.

“There’s room enough for two,” she suggested. Longarm took a skeptical look at the narrow tub. “Trust me,” she said, a somewhat impish look about her.

“If you put it that way …”

Deborah shed her uniform, its starch long since wilted and some unpleasantly red stains marring the white cloth after a day at the hospital, and Longarm hastened to shuck out of his clothes.

My, but this one was all woman. Proud of it too. There was no false modesty about her. She knew

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