"I would have been there but I was afraid Daddy would show up," she said quickly.
She was right.
Amos Winthrop was too much of a heller not to recognize the symptoms.
The trouble was he couldn't divide his time properly. He let women interfere with his work and work interfere with his women.
But Monica was his only daughter and, like all rakes, he thought of her as something special. Which she was. But not in the way he thought.
"Mix me a drink," I said, walking past her to the bedroom. "I'm going to slip into a hot tub. I smell so loud I can hear myself."
She picked up a tumbler filled with bourbon and ice and followed me into the bedroom.
"I had your drink ready," she said.
"And the tub is full."
I took the drink from her hand. "How'd you know when I got here?"
She smiled again. "I heard it on the radio."
I sipped at the drink as she came over to me.
"You don't have to take a bath on my account," she said. "That smell is kind of exciting."
I put the drink down and walked into the bathroom, taking off my shirt.
When I turned to close the door, she was right behind me.
"Don't get into the tub yet," she said.
"It's a shame to waste all that musky maleness."
She put her arms around my neck and pressed her body against me.
I sought her lips but she turned her face away and buried it in my shoulder. I felt her take a deep, shuddering breath.
She moaned softly and the heat came out of her body like steam from an oven.
I turned her face up to me with my hand.
Her eyes were almost closed. She moaned again, her body writhing.
I tugged at my belt and my trousers fell to the floor.
I kicked them aside and backed her toward the vanity table along the wall.
Her eyes were still closed as she leaped up on me like a monkey climbing a coconut tree.
"Breathe slow, baby," I said as she began to scream in a tortured half whisper. "I may not smell as good as this for years."
The water was soft and hot, and weariness washed in and out as it rippled against me.
I reached behind me, trying to get to my back with the soap. I couldn't make it.
"Let me do that," she said.
I looked up at her as she took the washcloth from my hand and began to rub my back.
The slow, circular motion was soothing and I leaned forward and closed my eyes.
"Don't stop," I said. "That feels good."
"You're just like a baby. You need someone to take care of you."
I opened my eyes and looked up at her again.
"I been thinkin' that, too," I said. "I think I'll get a Jap houseboy."
"A Jap houseboy won't do this," she said. I felt her tap my shoulder. "Lean back. I want to rinse the soap off." I leaned back in the water, my eyes still closed.
She moved the washcloth over my chest and then down.
I opened my eyes. She was staring down at me.
"It looks so small and helpless," she whispered.
"That wasn't what you said a little while ago."
"I know," she said, still in that whisper, the foggy look coming back into her eyes.
I knew the look. I reached up and put my arm around her neck and pulled her down on the edge of the tub.
I felt her hand go down and cover me with the washcloth as we kissed.
"You're growing strong," she whispered, her mouth moving against mine.
I laughed and just then the telephone rang.
We turned quickly, startled, and the water splashed up and drenched the front of her dress. Silently she took the phone from the vanity and gave it to me.
"Yes?" I growled into it.
It was McAllister. He was down in the lobby.
"I said three o'clock," I snapped.
"It is three o'clock," he answered. "Can we come up?