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He put his arms around her and rubbed her back, like a man trying to warm his hands. She seemed to like it, so Savage rubbed some more, giving his hands more latitude. Marylou sighed and grew warm against him. She gave a startled gasp when his lips found hers; she hadn’t even considered the possibility of anything romantic, what with her father snoring not a hundred feet away, and two men laying dead close by. Once implanted, however, the notion took hold of her swiftly. It was no time at all before Clint Savage found that another of his hunches had come true.
There was nothing under her robe but her sweet, soft body.

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