Roxie
I jump in the shower when we get back to the room, half tempted to ask Ronan if he wants to join me. Needing to wash the day away between the target practice and being questioned by Inspector Castillo, the latter somehow making me feel dirty.
The resort has supplied an assortment of shower gels and body washes, so I choose one that claims to be a blend of mango and vanilla, but promises “good, clean fun after getting dirty in the sun.” I wonder if it lost something in translation with that marketing tagline or if they really meant for it to sound like washing after sex on the beach.
The bathroom door opens and Ronan steps in.
I didn’t really ask him to join me. Did I?
“I’m not looking, we just need to talk and figure out a plan before Mack and Reed get here.”
“I don’t mind if you look.”
“Roxie,” he warns.
“What’s the matter, haven’t you ever seen a grown woman naked?” I try to make a play on a line from the movieAirplane, but then I remember that he’s Russian and probably hasn’t seen the movie, so my efforts are lost on him.
“I’ve seen a grown woman naked,” he scoffs.
Case in point.
“That doesn’t mean I need to ogle you while you are bathing. I just want to make sure we’re clear on what we are doing, our objectives in being here, before inviting them into the fold.”
“I’m clear. Are you?”
“It’s not me I’m worried about.”
I turn off the water and open the shower door. “Hand me my towel, please?”
He reaches blindly for the towel, then tosses it in my direction. I wrap it around my wet body. “Okay, it’s safe to look now.”
He opens his eyes.
I open the towel and flash him.
Pleased to see the heat flare in his eyes before he tamps it down. He runs his palm over his face. “What was that for?”
“In case you were wondering if I’m a natural redhead.” I smile.
“Excuse me?”
“You know, if the carpet matches the drapes.”
“The what?”
“My pubes are the same color as my hair.”
“Oh my god. And why would I be wondering that?”
“It’s a common curiosity about redheads. One, whether they are natural. And two, whether their body hair is red as well.”
“But, the hair on your body is not red.”
“Yes, it is, I just showed you. Want to see it again?”
“No.” He covers his eyes with one hand, as though the sight of me naked horrifies him. “I mean, like your arms, the hair on your arms is not red.”
“Well, no, it’s blond. That’s almost always the case.”