Colonist's Wife
Author:Kylie Scott

Had he locked the door?

 

She sidled closer, curious. Her hand wisely stalled beside the scanner, as well it might. She shouldn’t. Really probably shouldn’t.

 

But life was short and you never did know.

 

So she did.

 

For the sake of marital bonds. And to apologize, which was only good manners.

 

And really, deep down, she wanted to pick up the unexpected thread between them. She wanted to see where it led. It had been so long since she’d felt this much of anything, outside fear and apprehension.

 

The small room was filled with steam but she could see him courtesy of the lack of a shower door. The long, hard lines of his body were displayed to perfection as he stood there with his arms propped against the shower wall and his head hanging between them. She wished she had her com unit on her to snap a picture for posterity. Water pounded down onto the back of his neck, flowed over his shoulders and spine.

 

And there was an ass to be proud of, right there. Then came thick thighs and long, muscular legs with a sprinkling of dark hair.

 

What the hell was he going to say when he saw her there?

 

No backing out now.

 

She clutched her hands together and cleared her throat. “Adam?”

 

His head snapped around so fast that drops of warm water hit her cheeks. His arms fell and he turned to face her. It was an effort to keep her eyes from wandering south.

 

“I just wanted to apologize,” she started, and stepped closer. The mist from the water dampened the front of her dress and her hair clung to her cheeks. It was really warm in there. With her naked husband scowling at her. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

 

He said nothing.

 

“So I’m sorry.”

 

“This couldn’t have waited ’til I was finished?”

 

Angry or not, he was a nice-looking man. She edged closer, close enough that her feet were sitting in water and her stockings were wet. “I felt bad about it.”

 

“Ah,” he said.

 

He had clear blue eyes and as they fixed on her they sent a tremor straight through her heart. A crazy little jolt of electricity. It tingled in her toes. Her eyelids started fluttering like a butterfly’s wings, beyond her control. What had she been thinking? She’d walked in on the man in the shower and there was no backing out now. Her hands fisted at the sides of her stupid, shapeless skirt.

 

Maybe she should leave. Give the poor guy some privacy.

 

No, she had to know how this ended.

 

There. Decision made.

 

She waited but he said no more.

 

One of them had moved but she wasn’t sure who. The front of her dress was drenched. They were toe to toe, standing in the puddle of water. The suspense was killing her. “That’s all you’re going to say? Ah?”

 

Adam stood there, hot, wet, naked and staring back at her. “What do you want me to say, Louise?”

 

“Tell me to leave or something. I don’t know.”

 

“I don’t want you to leave.”

 

“You don’t want me to stay,” she countered. “You’ve spent the last two days avoiding me.”

 

“I have,” he agreed. And it was the obvious truth but it stung. “But that was before.”

 

She squinted at him, trying to understand and failing dismally. “Before what?”

 

“Before.” He put his hands on his hips, shook his head and actually smiled. Looked a little embarrassed if anything. She had been wrong. He was… This man was gorgeous. Jaw-droppingly, brain-boilingly beautiful when he smiled. Her nipples tightened and poked at the front of her dress. Adam couldn’t have failed to notice. “Before the memorial. Before you got your hands dirty. Before you walked in on my shower, for the gods’ sake.”

 

“What does getting my hands dirty matter?”

 

“It matters. Do you always ask this many questions?”

 

“Yes,” she said. “Sometimes.”

 

“Ah,” he said.

 

Louise leaned farther in to him. She could only hope he would catch her before she fell. “You keep saying that.”

 

He smiled as if he knew a secret.

 

They were so close, his mouth barely above hers. All his bare, wet skin laid out before her like a buffet. More than her stockings were wet and more than her knees trembled.

 

“You’re a very pretty man, Adam Elliot,” she said.

 

Bless him, the man actually blushed. “You didn’t think so when you first saw me.”

 

“You were not at your best.”

 

“No. No, I wasn’t.”

 

“Nor were you that keen on me.”

 

“True.”

 

“Loving the honesty, Adam.” She hung her head and her eyes dropped and, well now…he was very keen on her now. Ecstatic, even. He was long and thick and lovely, another part of him worthy of being rendered in stone. When was the last time she’d even seen a real, live penis? Well over a year. He made her mouth water.

 

She dragged her gaze back up him and the tension ratcheted higher when she met his eyes. There wasn’t much of the blue left. The black had consumed it whole. “Huh.”

 

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