A Fistful of Trouble (Outlaws of the Galaxy Book 2) by Paul Tomlinson (books on motivation TXT) 📗

on the bed. Was Harmony watching me undress? I didn’t make my striptease too obvious. I didn’t want to tip her off too soon. I just behaved as if I thought I was alone in the room. But without the usual farting or nose-picking. I retrieved the key from my jeans pocket and padded back into the bathroom.

I didn’t know where Harmony had hidden herself, but the options were limited. Under the bed. Inside the big wooden wardrobe. Behind the curtains at the window. Or perhaps wedged at the back of the guard that covered the unused fireplace. That was about it. Hide ‘n’ seek wasn’t really much of a game for adults. At least not in the literal sense.

I left the bathroom door open. From the bath, I would have an unobstructed view of the door and would see if she tried to get out that way. She had picked the lock to get in, therefore getting out wouldn’t be much of a challenge. Or so she’d believe. I couldn’t see the bedroom window from the bathroom. But it looked out onto the main street and she would have to climb down from the balcony. I didn’t think she’d risk that. I lowered myself into the bath and all of the stresses of my day drifted away on a loud drawn-out sigh. It was every bit as good as I had imagined.

If I was Harmony, I would wait to see if Quincy nodded off in the bath. If I saw his eyes close and stay shut, I’d make my bid for freedom. If I was adept with the lockpicks, the locked door would open almost as quickly as an unlocked one. I wouldn’t want to linger in his room too long – it increased the risk of discovery.

Harmony evidently had more patience than I did. I lay back in the tub with my eyes closed, listening for any movement in the bedroom. After twenty minutes I really was in danger of dozing off so I opened my eyelids enough to have a fuzzy view out through the open door. And a few minutes after that I began to doubt whether she was still in the bedroom at all. What if she had gone before I got back? Maybe it was just her perfume that had lingered.

There was a flicker of movement. At first, I thought it was a shadow. But it was someone dressed in a tight-fitting black costume. An obviously female someone. Her hair was tucked into a loose hood and she was wearing black gloves. Harmony glanced towards the bath and I gave no indication that I had seen her. She went over to the door and bent to work on the lock. I coughed and stirred the bathwater, causing Harmony to scurry back into hiding. We restarted the waiting game. After five minutes the shadowy figure appeared again. I didn’t stir until she was kneeling by the door and then I made more splashing noises. She disappeared again.

I could probably have kept this up for a good while longer. But my bubbles were fading and the water was no longer steaming. Time to move on to the endgame. I started singing a dirty song that I’d learned from an old lady on a coach journey when I was ten. I hadn’t known what the words meant back then – but I quickly learned not to sing them in front of my mother. I sang a couple of verses and then got up and out of the bath. I pushed the bathroom door until it appeared to be closed. I turned off the light so it wouldn’t give me away when I opened the door again.

Harmony crouched down and slid her picks into the lock. I watched her for a moment, admiring the way the black fabric stretched around her buttocks. Did I mention that I’d slipped a little something into the lock to make it more difficult to open?

“It’s much easier with the key,” I said loudly.

She was visibly startled. She stood and whirled around. Her mouth was open to speak, but the sight of me standing there made her forget her lines. The expression on her face made all of my efforts worthwhile – and I forgave her for spoiling my relaxing bath. I held the little brass key out towards her.

“You – You’re not wearing anything!” She was staring down at my feet.

“I always take off my boots to bathe.”

“I didn’t know...”

“Most men do,” I said. She opened and closed her mouth a few times but no words came out, so I kept talking to cover her embarrassment. “Breaking into a man’s room when he’s alone and naked – that’s awfully brazen of you.”

“I didn’t know you were in here.”

“No one’s ever going to believe that, you know. Even I don’t believe it.”

She edged around me, moving back into the room. Perhaps she was going to make a dash for the window.

“I only came for your money,” she said, her voice catching in her throat.

“Be honest – you came up here because you wanted me.”

She couldn’t tear her eyes away and it wasn’t the key in my hand she was staring at. I gave it a little swing and it made her blush. I was so glad the bathwater hadn’t been cold.

“Will you cover that thing.” She dashed for the bathroom and grabbed a towel, threw it at me. It was the hand towel and it barely went around my waist.

“If you do anything to turn me on, I’m afraid it’s going to be terribly obvious,” I said.

“I have no intention of arousing your – your passion.”

“And that’s why you came up here in that sexy black outfit, is it?”

“This isn’t meant to be sexy,” she said, running her hand down the front of it and unconsciously covering the spot where the zipper ended.

“It clings to every curve of your body.”

“It’s just a catsuit. All burglars wear them.”

“I’ve never worn one.”

Her eyes looked me