Midnight Jewels

Holding the book, the towel and her wet skirts in a tangled mass helped minimize the odd shape under the large, thick terrycloth. "Let's keep moving, honey. We don't want you disgracing yourself in the middle of the party."
    Croft gave his new acquaintances a knowing grin. "She's trying to get me upstairs so I can seduce her."
    "Croft!"
    "Okay, okay, honey. I'm on my way. Don't want to keep you waiting."
    He had one wet boot on the first step that led up to the second level of the house when Isobel Ascanius appeared in the hall. She stared at the couple on the stairs, her eyes sharp and questioning.
    "Mercy? What's wrong? You're both soaking wet. Are you all right?"
    "Hi, Izzy," Croft said good-naturedly, his words sounding slightly more slurred. "Is that a new pilot suit? Looks great. Oughta set a whole new trend."
    "Ignore him," Mercy said with a sigh. "He's bombed out of his skull. Decided to take a midnight swim and nearly drowned in the process. I'm going to take him upstairs and put him to bed."
    Isobel looked at Mercy. "Do you need any help with him?"
    "No," said Croft before Mercy could decline. "She doesn't need any help with me. Just a little practice, is all. I'm gonna see she gets plenty of practice." He leaned forward confidentially and nearly fell over. "Mercy's a little shy, you know. Kind of inhibited 'bout some things, if you know what I mean. But she's teaming."
    Mercy clamped a hand over his mouth. "That's enough out of you," she hissed. "You're embarrassing me." He gazed at her over the edge of her palm, a ludicrously hurt expression in his eyes as Mercy turned to Isobel.
    "Please excuse us, Isobel. This is so humiliating. I'm going to take him straight upstairs to bed and let him sleep it off."
    "I didn't realize he had had that much to drink."
    "He doesn't hold his liquor well."
    There was a "humph" of protest from behind Mercy's hand. She felt Croft's tongue on her palm and hastily removed her fingers. He smiled in triumph, satisfied with the small victory.
    "Behave yourself," Mercy snapped. She turned back to Isobel, still clutching the hidden book against her wet skirt. She tried to stand at an angle, using Croft's body to shield the woman's gaze from the towel. "If you'll make our apologies to Erasmus?"
    "Of course. You're sure you don't need any help?"
    "No, thanks. I can manage." She started up the stairs and Croft followed obediently, his body still hiding most of her slender frame. He waved at Isobel until she was out of sight.
    "Hell of a pilot," he said as Mercy pushed him down the hall and into the suite.
    "If you're so enthralled with her, why did you get drunk at her party and make a fool of yourself?" Mercy began unbuttoning his shirt.
    "I'm not enthralled. Just making an observation. She's a good pilot. I think I'm enthralled with you, though." He looked down at Mercy as she shoved the wet shirt off his shoulders and went to work on the buckle of his belt. "It works better if you take the boots off first."
    "Why didn't I think of that?" Thoroughly irritated, but even more thoroughly scared, Mercy shoved him down to a sitting position on the bed and knelt in front of him. She set
Valley
down beside him.
    Croft ignored the book. "You gonna undress me and throw yourself on my body?"
    "No, I'm going to throw you in the shower."
    "I'm already wet."
    "We're both cold. We need a quick, hot shower and fresh clothes. And we need to hurry." She finally got his boots off and hastily rose. "Take off your pants and get into the shower."
    He frowned and fumbled with his zipper. "Need help."
    "Oh, Lord, I can't believe this." Her own fingers were trembling, partly with cold, partly with her frantic concern as she unzipped his trousers and helped him step out of them. It was not an easy task. Croft kept having trouble with his balance. For some reason that genuinely alarmed him.
    "I'm not drunk," he muttered as he lurched, naked, through the bathroom doorway. "Can't be drunk. Never get drunk.
Never
. Can't risk it. Might turn out like my dad. Might hurt someone I don't want to hurt.
I never drink too much
."
    Mercy stared at him, listening to his mumbled protest. It occurred to her again that he was probably right. He couldn't be drunk. Croft had had a mission tonight. The last thing he would have done was have too much to drink before tackling the vault.
    She caught his arm just as he was about to step into the shower. "Croft, if you haven't had too much to drink,
what's wrong with