someone was rare. He
looked at her with all the interest of a male on the prowl, sending her
girl-radar into major ping mode. And yet a couple of times she'd seen him with
another man, equally handsome but with a harsher edge.
There was something about their
interaction that spoke of intimacy, but what kind and how intense, Susannah had
no clue. They could have been gay, but somehow she didn't think so. The
dynamics were wrong.
Together, the two of them probably
caused more than a few indrawn breaths when they strolled past women. She knew
she wasn't immune. How could she be? Beauty was beauty wherever one found it.
Man or woman, it made no difference to her.
She knew she wasn't beautiful in the true sense of the word. She was tall,
yes. But she was also solid, strong in the shoulders and with a firm woman's
body honed by a daily workout and an energetic lifestyle. She had curves, a
flat stomach and breasts that were, at this moment, upthrust and barely hidden
by the frills of lace topping the corset.
One lock of dark hair fell toward her
cleavage, since she'd obeyed a whim and pulled the rest of it up into a twist
on top of her head. It was out of character, but so was this entire day.
If it hadn't been for a foolish dare...
"I dare you, Susannah McGill."
She could still hear the words as
they echoed over her cell phone. She'd been catching up with Sophie Lewis, a
college friend who'd kept in touch long after the days of all-nighters and keg
parties were over.
Sophie
was all the feminine things that Susannah wasn't, but this hadn't stopped them
from bonding. In fact it was in art class together that Susannah first received
her nickname. When the lecturer saw her technique, he drew a rather harsh
parallel with Jack the Ripper, comparing her brushstrokes to slashes of the
Ripper's knife. Sophie had immediately run to her and said "Never mind,
Slash. Let's get lunch."
The
rest, as they say, was history.
So
Susannah had become Slash McGill, and as Slash had moved on through a couple of
years with the FBI to the present and her own agency. Sophie was now living in
Florida and taking photographs of tourists, flamingoes and whatever else lived
down there. Probably alligators.
But
she still retained a little imp of mischief and knew how Susannah responded to
a dare. This one had been a beaut.
"You're
not dating anyone, Suz, are you?"
"No."
She sighed.
"Okay,
so I dare you to dress like a girl and get a date. No, wait. I've got an even
better idea."
Susannah
had held her breath, knowing something outrageous would be forthcoming. Her
friend didn't let her down.
"I
dare you to dress in costume and spend the day at the Renaissance Faire. It's
the fall so it's on now. No excuses and I want pictures. Cell phone ones are
okay, but taken by someone else."
Susannah
had closed her eyes in pain. "Is that all?"
"No.
I want a picture of you with a fully costumed knight. A good-looking one if you
can find one. Not some old guy who's probably a janitor come Monday and just
out looking to squeeze a girl's bum over the weekend."
"I
can't tell you how excited I am about this idea." Susannah's tone could
have sliced through steel.
"Oh,
and you have to have sex with him."
"The
bum-fondling janitor?"
There
was an exasperated huff of sound over the line. "Idiot. The good looking
knight."
"Ah.
And if I can't find one?"
"Substitutes
are acceptable."
"I
won't tell you about my sex life." Susannah tried to sound as firm as she
could.
"Since
you don't have one, that's not a problem, is it?"
"Okay.
Score one for the munchkin."
Sophie
had snorted and the conversation had moved on, but the damage was done. Susannah
knew she'd do this insane thing, dress up and find herself a knight for a
photo. The sex she wasn't so sure about, but it had been quite a while since
anyone had curled her toes. If he was an okay guy and up for--she winced to
herself as the joke giggled at her--a one knight stand...
She
walked on, her attention flitting
looked at her with all the interest of a male on the prowl, sending her
girl-radar into major ping mode. And yet a couple of times she'd seen him with
another man, equally handsome but with a harsher edge.
There was something about their
interaction that spoke of intimacy, but what kind and how intense, Susannah had
no clue. They could have been gay, but somehow she didn't think so. The
dynamics were wrong.
Together, the two of them probably
caused more than a few indrawn breaths when they strolled past women. She knew
she wasn't immune. How could she be? Beauty was beauty wherever one found it.
Man or woman, it made no difference to her.
She knew she wasn't beautiful in the true sense of the word. She was tall,
yes. But she was also solid, strong in the shoulders and with a firm woman's
body honed by a daily workout and an energetic lifestyle. She had curves, a
flat stomach and breasts that were, at this moment, upthrust and barely hidden
by the frills of lace topping the corset.
One lock of dark hair fell toward her
cleavage, since she'd obeyed a whim and pulled the rest of it up into a twist
on top of her head. It was out of character, but so was this entire day.
If it hadn't been for a foolish dare...
"I dare you, Susannah McGill."
She could still hear the words as
they echoed over her cell phone. She'd been catching up with Sophie Lewis, a
college friend who'd kept in touch long after the days of all-nighters and keg
parties were over.
Sophie
was all the feminine things that Susannah wasn't, but this hadn't stopped them
from bonding. In fact it was in art class together that Susannah first received
her nickname. When the lecturer saw her technique, he drew a rather harsh
parallel with Jack the Ripper, comparing her brushstrokes to slashes of the
Ripper's knife. Sophie had immediately run to her and said "Never mind,
Slash. Let's get lunch."
The
rest, as they say, was history.
So
Susannah had become Slash McGill, and as Slash had moved on through a couple of
years with the FBI to the present and her own agency. Sophie was now living in
Florida and taking photographs of tourists, flamingoes and whatever else lived
down there. Probably alligators.
But
she still retained a little imp of mischief and knew how Susannah responded to
a dare. This one had been a beaut.
"You're
not dating anyone, Suz, are you?"
"No."
She sighed.
"Okay,
so I dare you to dress like a girl and get a date. No, wait. I've got an even
better idea."
Susannah
had held her breath, knowing something outrageous would be forthcoming. Her
friend didn't let her down.
"I
dare you to dress in costume and spend the day at the Renaissance Faire. It's
the fall so it's on now. No excuses and I want pictures. Cell phone ones are
okay, but taken by someone else."
Susannah
had closed her eyes in pain. "Is that all?"
"No.
I want a picture of you with a fully costumed knight. A good-looking one if you
can find one. Not some old guy who's probably a janitor come Monday and just
out looking to squeeze a girl's bum over the weekend."
"I
can't tell you how excited I am about this idea." Susannah's tone could
have sliced through steel.
"Oh,
and you have to have sex with him."
"The
bum-fondling janitor?"
There
was an exasperated huff of sound over the line. "Idiot. The good looking
knight."
"Ah.
And if I can't find one?"
"Substitutes
are acceptable."
"I
won't tell you about my sex life." Susannah tried to sound as firm as she
could.
"Since
you don't have one, that's not a problem, is it?"
"Okay.
Score one for the munchkin."
Sophie
had snorted and the conversation had moved on, but the damage was done. Susannah
knew she'd do this insane thing, dress up and find herself a knight for a
photo. The sex she wasn't so sure about, but it had been quite a while since
anyone had curled her toes. If he was an okay guy and up for--she winced to
herself as the joke giggled at her--a one knight stand...
She
walked on, her attention flitting
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