Flirting With Forever by Gwyn Cready Read Free Book Online Page B

batting paws of a kitten and one, holding a shield and wearing an armor helmet with an enormous plume on top, was swinging a wooden broadsword, chanting “I am Athena. I am Athena.” Not one seemed even moderately concerned by her own state of undress or the arrival of an equal y undressed companion.
    The women were long-limbed and shapely, and Cam scrambled to determine which prospect of her body would be the least revealing to share with the room, deciding at last on a foot-forward beauty pageant stance, with her arms taking the place of both an underwire bra and Spanx and her ass tucked beside the doorframe. The woman with the kitten said, “Oh, look, Kate, ’tis the new girl.”
    Kate tucked the club under her arm and ran over with an amiable smile. She wore cuffs of maple and oak leaves around each ankle.
    “Oh, thank the Lord,” Kate cried, “a tal one! At least we are matched.” Kate drew a hand along an invisible line between the top of Cam’s head and her own. She extended the club, which, after a spit-second deliberation, Cam accepted with her Spanx hand, and picked up another.
    “Supporters make a very poor showing if they are not matched, I think.” Kate laid the club across her shoulders like a Highlander ready to do battle and took on what Cam assumed to be a supporter’s proper sneer. “We are the wild men on the Danish coat of arms, do you see? The lord-general of the Danish army is coming. Peter said it would amuse him. Are you cold?” she added, looking with curiosity at Cam’s stil -rigid arm.
    One of the card players said, “I’d be more interested in amusing Peter,” and they laughed.
    Cam heard the sound of a far-off door opening.
    “You had better get your headdress on and be quick about it. He doesn’t like it when we’re late.”
    Kate held out a large furred and antlered headdress, which made Cam think of Fred Flintstone’s Loyal Order of Water Buffalo or the natives who hunted the castaways on Gilligan’s Island. Reluctantly Cam freed the bra hand to accept it.
    “Put it on.”
    Cam did. The front hung past her nose, like a centurion’s helmet with two eyeholes. Great. Now the only thing she had covered was the one part of her she didn’t care if people saw.
    “Oooh, this is a fine bit of enamel work.” Kate touched the ring at Cam’s breastbone with awe on her face. “Was it a present from Peter?”
    “I, er—” There was more going on than she could process. But before Cam had a chance to answer, the sound of men’s voices rose beyond the doorway and terror leapt up in her now uncovered chest.
    “Peter’s here!” Kate chirped. The women bounded toward Peter, and Cam flew in the other direction, toward the open door of a large darkened closet, slipping between a ladder and some stacked buckets. It wasn’t til she was safely in the dark, however, that she noticed the painter’s drop cloth folded on the floor on the opposite side of the doorframe.
    Thank God . Whatever was coming next in this nightmare could only be made better with a cloth around her.
    She stretched out a toe, but the doorway was large and she couldn’t quite reach the edge without bringing her body back into view of the room.
    Should she dare it? It was the old “bird in the hand versus two in the bush” question. On the bird side, she might be naked but she was out of sight. Given the bush in question, however, she decided that trying again was the only option.
    She hugged the wal next to the door, and did a squat with one leg while extending the foot of the other. Jeez, how wide did a closet door need to be? No luck. Sighing, she decided to hold the headdress at her side and use it like a shield. With that blocking her body from the view of the room, she’d just hop over, grab the cloth and hop back.
    Surely the forest of gorgeous naked women would keep the eyes of whoever this Peter was off a single, mortified tree for the two seconds it would take her to snag some covering.
    Cam lowered