Willow Smoke (78 page)

Daisy
let
the
water
cascade
over
her
hair.
She
held
her
breath
and
then
stepped
out from under the water and shook
her
head.
She
grabbed
a
towel
and
began
vigorously
rubbing
herself
dry.

She
grinned,
thinking
that
Thelma
had
to
be
the
happiest
person
at
the
track
that
day.
The
woman
had
screamed
and
danced
when
she
found
out
that
their
claim
had
been
successful.
And
Tom
had
nearly
had
to pry
his
wife
away
from
the
stable
when
it
was
time
to
go
home.
Thelma
would
likely
become
a
pest,
needing
to
know
every
little
burp
Blue
Horizon
made,
but
it
would
be
fun
having
the
expressive
woman
around
more
often.

Daisy
reached
for
the
blow
dryer
and
frowned.
Why
couldn’t
she
be
the
free
spirit
Thelma
appeared
to
be?
But
she
was
too
much
of
a
worrier.
As
she
dried
her
wavy
hair,
she
watched
her
breasts
rise
and
fall
with
each
move.
Too
bad
Nick
wasn’t
there.
He
always
enjoyed
watching
her shower and get ready. It gave him
an
opportunity
to
pamper
her
with
his
eyes
and
his
fingertips,
he’d
say.

Her
skin
flushed.
Well,
he
wasn’t
here.
And
she
had
to
erase
those
kinds
of
thoughts
from
her
mind
or
she
really
would
be in trouble. This was their
first date,
not
the
continuation
of
jumping
in
and
out
of
bed
like
two
randy
rabbits.
She
tried
to
suppress
a
smile;
she’d
always
been
fond
of
bunnies.

She
glanced
at
the
clock.
Damn,
he’ll
be
here
soon
and
I’m
not
even
close
to
being
ready.
Quit
lollygagging,
girl.

Slipping
on
the
gold
dress
she’d
purchased
at
Macy’s
after
conferring
with
Angie,
Daisy
admired
the
new
look.
She’d
decided
to
treat
herself;
she
could
afford
it
now.
There
should
be
a
limit
to
frugality.

The
dress
was
certainly
beyond
that
limit.
It
was
classy
and
sexy
at
the
same
time,
hugging
the
contours
of
her
body
like
a
jockey
riding
low
over
a
horse’s
neck
and
withers.
While
the
vee
neck
made
a
hint
of
suggestion,
the
mid-thigh
hemline
showed
off
her
thighs
and
legs
very
nicely.
A
gold
chain
gathered
the
satiny
material
at
the
waist.
She
slipped
her
feet
into
gold
pumps
and
pronounced
herself
ready for the symphony.

Daisy’s
brow
furrowed.
Jewelry?
She
hadn’t
bothered
about
going
to
the
bank
to
retrieve
the
diamonds.
The
gold
bracelet seemed
like
too
much
gold.
She
plucked
the
opal
from
the
jewelry
box.
She
latched
its
chain
behind
her
neck
and
tucked
it
into the vee of her dress.

Pirouetting before the
bedroom mirror,
she
smiled
mischievously.
She
wasn’t
ready to walk
away from whatever
she
had
with
Nick,
and
she
didn’t
want
him
all
of
a
sudden
deciding
to
break
things
off
between
them.
She
certainly
didn’t
want
him
to
forget
what
he
was
missing.
Appraising
herself
yet
another
time
in
the
mirror,
she
concluded
he
wouldn’t.

- o -

Scrunching
down
in
his
seat
and
sticking
a
leg
out
into
the
aisle,
Nick
released
a
satisfied
sigh.
His
fingers
enfolded
Daisy’s
hand
atop
the
arm
rest
between
their
two
seats.
He
looked
at
Daisy
and
grinned.
With
eyes
rounded
and
posture
straight,
Daisy’s
attention
was
completely
fixed
on
the
orchestra.
She
was
so
expressive.
He
loved
to
watch
the
music
move her almost to tears, and then a
smile
parted
her
lips,
and
then
a
foot
would
tap
lightly.
Daisy
couldn’t
just
sit
there
and
listen—she
became
an
instrument.
She
became the music. It was that spirit
that
enabled
her
to
communicate
with
horses
on
a
level
he
couldn’t
totally
comprehend.
Her
capacity
for
exploring
sensations
was
what
allowed
her
to
become
such
a
creative
lover.

Had
he
ever
been
that
innocently
enthusiastic?
She
was
so
mature
and
honed
by
the
streets
that
he
was
surprised
each
time
he
witnessed
her
childlike
quality
as she
embraced
new
experiences
without
question
or
hesitation.

Nick squeezed her hand.
When she’d met him at the door of her apartment,
childhood
qualities
were
not
what
had
crossed
his
mind.
She
was
absolutely
stunning
in
that
gold
dress.
He
grinned,
remembering.
She’d
been
so
proud
that
she’d
selected
and
bought
the
dress
on
her
own.
He
wagered
that
that
was
one
of
the
few
times
she’d
gone
out
and
splurged
on
herself.
She’d
demonstrated
superlative
taste;
he
could
not
have
done
better
himself.
That
the
dress
rode
nearly
up
to
her
butt
when
she
sat
down
was
simply
an
added
benefit
for
him.