Page 91 of The Cajun Doctor

“A one-night stand then, that’s what you’re suggesting?”

A grin twitched at his lips. “I wouldn’t put it exactly like that. I doubt this whole situation, with you and your gang trapped here, will be over in one day or night. It could be a week, or more.”

“So, a one-week stand?”

“Semantics.”

“An affair? For the duration of my stay?”

“A mutually agreeable affair, until one of us calls a halt. No hard feelings. Not even a break-up because there would be no real relationship to begin with.”

Men! They thought women could turn sex on and off with no emotional involvement. It was out of the question, of course. She had her pride.

Sensing her hesitation, he told her, “I’ve been thinking about you. Fantasizing. All day. Last night, too. It’s driving me crazy. I . . . want . . . you.”

“Like those sex dreams we shared?”

“Worse. No, better.” He went on then to describe in graphic detail the sex fantasies he’d been entertaining throughout the day, all of which starred her. One of them involved ice cream, warm fudge topping, and sprinkles. And bananas!

She tried to hide the fact that she was shocked . . . and, yes, turned on . . . by remarking as calmly as she could, “Sounds messy.”

“Doesn’t it!” he said, as if messy sex were a good thing.

Then he elaborated on an outdoor sex fantasy. No way to hide her body secrets in the bright sunshine, he told her, because he was looking at her. Everywhere! They were lying on a grassy field, or a meadow. And the things he did to tickle her with petals of wildflowers! But then she’d been showing him how to weave a flower chain around his favorite body part.

Samantha couldn’t help but blush. “You certainly are creative.”

“I’ve had years to practice. Nothing else to do when you’re retired with nothing else to pass the time.”

“Uh-huh,” she said.

Then he told her about his other sex fantasies involving animal furs (fake ones, of course), nude dancing, and ankle bracelets. He seemed to have a thing about the sleep outfit she’d had on yesterday evening . . . the silk pants and camisole top; they featured in lots of his scenarios. The most interesting to her was the one where she was stretched out on a bed, her freckled nude body a pure temptation against the white background of the sheets. Cascades of auburn hair (he said red, but she knew it was auburn, aka Mahogany Fire by Charles Max) were spread around her and on her. Her lips were cherry red. In essence, she looked like a sex goddess. His words, not hers.

Imagine that! Me, a sex goddess!

“So, what do you say? Wanna play?”

She was stunned speechless. Of course, she was interested. But should she? Could she?

“Just think about it,” he said, standing. “I need to go over to the garconniére to check on the cats and lock up. Aaron won’t be back tonight.”

And just like that, he was gone. Leaving her stunned and so turned on she squirmed on the bench.

But then, she narrowed her eyes. The teaser! The cool manner with which he’d made such a hot suggestion. He’d probably done it on purpose to rattle her. Probably thought she was such a prude that she’d go hide under a sheet somewhere.

It was a challenge.

And she’d never backed down from a challenge before, even though she’d never had one quite like this.

Did she have the nerve?

Would she be making a fool of herself?

Who cared!

Boy, did Daniel have a surprise coming!

Chapter Twenty