“Holy shit,” John said.
Waving the handgun, Lynn smiled up at the new arrival and said something.
The new gal grinned and nodded. Her lips moved. She nodded some more.
Lynn slipped the revolver back inside the folds of her towel. Then she stood up, turned around and climbed out of the spa.
Owen stared at her back and buttocks and legs. They were ruddy from the heat of the water, shiny in the lights.
After Lynn disappeared inside the house, the newcomer turned toward the pool. She seemed to be gazing across it, studying the long, thick row of shrubbery and small trees.
Almost as if
For a few moments, she seemed to be gazing straight at the place where Owen and John were kneeling.
Owen didn’t move. He held his breath.
Then the woman’s eyes moved on.
John made a “Whew” sound.
Owen resumed breathing.
On the other side of the pool, the gorgeous stranger started to unbutton her shirt.
“Oh, man,” John murmured.
As the buttons came undone, Owen saw that she was wearing something red underneath her blue shirt. She pulled off the outer shirt. The red belonged to a T-shirt. It hugged her body, and so did the straps of a brown leather harness.
The harness supported a shoulder holster.
She pulled a dark pistol out of the holster, bent down and set it on top of Lynn’s towel. Then she stepped over to the patio table. She draped her blue shirt over the back of a chair, removed her holster rig and put it on the table. Next, she pulled out a chair and sat down and took off her boots.
John nudged him. “She’s going
“Looks that way.”
“Shit! Is this our lucky night, or what?”
“You’re lucky you didn’t get shot.”
“Fuck you.”
Done removing her socks, the woman stood up. She unfastened her jeans, pulled them down and stepped out of them. Her red T-shirt reached down like a very short, tight skirt to the tops of her thighs. Owen wished he could see under its edge, but coutdn’t—not even when she crouched to pick up her jeans.
Turning around, she bent over to drape her jeans on the chair.
Owen saw her bare buttocks.
His breath caught.
With her back to the pool, she pulled up the T-shirt and drew it over her head.
She was naked.
She tossed her T-shirt onto the chair, then turned away from the table.
Turned toward the spa.
Toward the pool and Owen and John.
Owen heard the click and buzz of John’s camera.
Owen gaped at the woman, astounded by his good luck, hardly able to believe that he was actually here, spying from the bushes on someone who was not only absolutely naked but more beautiful and exciting than anyone he’d ever seen or imagined.
She had a soft, mellow tan all the way down her body. Every muscle looked sleek and strong. Her breasts, firm and round and heavy, were tipped with large, stiff nipples. Below her ribcage, her belly sloped in, flat and smooth. Twin hollows slanted downward from her hips, leading to a tuft of golden curls.
As she walked toward the spa, Owen glimpsed a fleshy cleft below the curls. Flushed and aching, he quickly lifted his gaze to her breasts. He saw how they bounced and swayed.
At the edge of the spa, she balanced on her left leg and dipped in her right foot. She took it out, dipped it in again, then shrugged and stepped all the way down, bending her left leg and holding out her arms like wings to steady herself. Owen again saw the split between her legs.
John clicked photos.
On the edge of losing control, Owen shut his eyes.
He opened his eyes and saw that she was already shoulder deep in the spa.
Okay, he told himself. Fine. I’ll be all right, now.
Maybe.
Out of the house’s back door stepped Lynn. She was carrying a bottle of red wine, two glasses, and a big blue towel.
“How you doing, man?” John whispered.
“Great.”
“Is this the best, or what?”
“It’s the best, all right.”
Grinning, John gave his shoulder a squeeze. “Looks like they’re gonna have a party.”
“Yeah.”
“I gotta reload.”
“Hurry,” Owen said. He watched Lynn fill the glasses with wine, climb down into the spa and hand a glass to the beautiful stranger.
After Lynn sat down, they touched their glasses together.
Owen imagined the musical tone of their rims clinking. He couldn’t hear it, though.
He could hear the thumping of the heart inside him.
He could hear the buzz of John’s film rewinding dose to his right side.
He could hear the wind in the trees behind him.
He could hear the burble of the spa in front of him and the noise of the heater off around the corner of the house.
As the wine glasses clinked together in silence, he also heard a single, phlegmy cough.
It came from somewhere in. the bushes to his left.
“What was that?” Owen whispered.
“What was what?”
“Didn’t you hear it? Like a cough? From over there?”
“Nah.”
Chapter Forty-Two
POOL PARTY
Dana hurried back to Warren’s car. “It’s okay,” she said. “I think the visitor’s a friend.”
“You don’t sound so sure.”
“Didn’t see his face.” At the driver’s window, Dana bent over and put her hands on the sill. “Who do you
