Page 51 of Trapped With the Secret Agent

“Yeah?” Peter sounded half asleep. The hand on her back stopped moving.

“And belly dance.”

That woke him up.

“Belly dance?”

“My best friend’s mother was a dancer and instructor. It’s very good exercise.”

“Is it?”

“Yes. The whole idea behind it is to learn to isolate individual muscle groups and move them. Originally, women used it as a way to get their bodies in shape for the delivery of a child. Many of the movements strengthen the lower back and pelvic muscles.”

Peter coughed. Repeatedly. “Pelvic muscles?”

“Yes.” Why did he sound like he was having an asthma attack? “Peter, are you ok?”

“Oh, I’m fine, just fine,” he wheezed. “Nothing to worry about. Must have inhaled some dust.”

“Oh.”

“Did you know I can wiggle my ears?” he asked, his voice sounding oddly strained.

“Ah, no.”

“I can. Makes my nieces and nephews laugh.”

“How many sisters do you have?”

“Three. At last count they have twelve kids between them.”

“That’s quite a few.”

She felt him shrug under her.

“My mom likes big family gatherings. I’m the only one who hasn’t reproduced yet.”

Georgia smiled to herself at his self-depreciating tone. “Why not?”

“I move around too much. To be a good father, a man has got to be at home.”

“Don’t you wonder what you’re missing out on sometimes?”

“I know what I’m missing. Every time I manage to show up at home on a holiday it’s pointed out to me. In detail.”

“That’s what families are for.” Darn it, did she have to sound so wistful? “You have a great family.”

“The best,” he agreed.

“You love your job, don’t you?”

“Yes. I do. I won’t apologize for it.”

“And you shouldn’t. That’s what I want, too. To find something I love and do it. You’re lucky.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m sure your family understands, too.”

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