As her father’s secretary put her through, she stole another glace at the sexy paint stripper and the way he carefully worked his hands over the cedar walls, taking his good old time, laboring slowly, methodically, conscientiously. He was a professional through and through, clearly determined to get the job done right. A warm tingle moved all the way through her body and settled deep between her thighs as she considered the way those large capable hands would feel brushing over her body, Mr. Shirtless taking the utmost care to get that particular job done right.
The deep sound of her father’s breathless voice came through the line and pulled her from her musings. “Candace, honey, how are you?”
She smiled, giving her father her full concentration. “I’m great. How about you?”
God, it was so good to hear his voice. Even though talking with him made it feel like he was close by, he was far away in New York. Candace had been only a child when her parents had split and she’d moved to Connecticut with her mother. She couldn’t remember much about New York or her time with her father, since he’d spent most of his days on the movie set, neglecting his family at home. Oh, granted, he’d given to her in other ways and tried to show his love by showering her with toys and money, but as a child Candace couldn’t really understand those gestures and only ever wanted his fatherly attention.
When her father went silent on the other end, Candace shook her head and chuckled. It was no wonder her mother had divorced him some twenty years ago. For as long as she’d known him, he’d never given anyone his undivided attention if it didn’t directly affect his latest movie. This lack of regard had undoubtedly been the downfall of his marriage. She knew as a director his mind was always in two places at once. As she grew up and entered adulthood, Candace had accepted his absent-minded professor disposition and learned to live with it.
“Dad, are you there?”
“Yes, honey, what is it I can do for you?”
She exhaled an exasperated breath. “You were the one who called me.”
“Oh right. Have you read today’s paper?”
Disheartened at the way the media always distorted information and cold-heartedly attacked the rich and famous for the sheer pleasure of it, she plunked herself down on the sunburnt grass and blew a heavy sigh. “Yeah, I read it.”
Her father went silent for a moment. She listened to the sound of papers rustling in the background. “It’s not true,” he piped up.
“I know. You don’t have to call me every time, Dad. I know the accusations aren’t true and you didn’t fire Ginger Simone because she wouldn’t sleep with you.” He’d fired her because during the first week of shooting she never bothered to show up to the set. That woman was a prima donna through and through. Just then Lindsay, Anna, Pamina—along with Pamina’s fat cat, Abra—came sauntering out of the house. Candace gave them a wave and they all shouted a greeting as they walked to the masonry truck that had suddenly materialized in the driveway.
“Candace…” Her father’s voice went serious, and Candace prepared herself for what was coming next. “I think—”
She cut him off before he had the chance to continue. “No. I don’t need a security guard tagging around and smothering me.” She shivered just thinking about it. Sure it was sweet that he cared about her well-being, but she simply wanted to live a normal life. “Most people don’t know who I am anyway.” After the divorce Candace and her mother had both taken on her mother’s maiden name for privacy and safety. But of course, there were those few men who, after doing a little digging, had learned her true identity and tried to use her to get to her father.
“Candace, the letters are getting worse. They’re far more threatening than they used to be.”
She shaded her eyes from the sun and cast a glance around the quaint neighborhood, her focus settling on her two best friends. “Look, Dad, I’m safe here in Connecticut. I’m surrounded by family and friends. And it’s probably Ginger herself sending those letters.”
A heavy sigh and then, “I miss you, kiddo.”
“I miss you too, Dad. Right now I’m swamped with a project but I promise to come see you soon.”
“Maybe that’s not such a good idea. Not until the police find out who’s been sending the letters.”
“You don’t want me to visit?” she teased, trying to lighten the mood.
“You know I do, but—”
She let him off the hook and gave a breezy laugh. “It’s okay, Dad. I’ll be in New York later this fall for the state marathon and we’ll get together then.” With that they said their goodbyes. Candace slipped her phone back into her pocket and pulled out her iPod.
When she lifted her chin to look at the house, to take one more longing gaze at the stripper before her run, she noticed he was gone. She darted a glance around, but he’d disappeared without a trace. How very stealthy of him. Oh well. Maybe it was for the best. The less temptation the better.
Fully aware of the heat rising inside her lascivious body, Candace tightened her laces before climbing to her feet. She strapped her iPod to her arm and adjusted the buds in her ears before taking off for the running park circling Blueberry Lake—named after its super clean, crystal blue water. As she approached the water, she watched the waves lap gently against the embankment, undulating, rippling and reminding her of two salacious bodies coming together, over and over.
Dear God, her sex-deprived body was definitely showing signs of stress. Sure she had a good imagination, but conjuring up images of naked bodies in motion simply from watching the swell was over the top. Perhaps a trip to Toys4Gals for a few extra accessories was in order. Her thoughts raced back
