Page 33 of Dark Shaman: Love Found
"I'm barefoot, so I'm a little taller."
"You are," she agreed. "Your feet are bigger too, so you will need new cowboy boots to take me dancing."
Was she joking?
Or was she serious?
"You want me to take you dancing?"
"Did I say that?" She affected an innocent expression that didn't fool him for a second. "I must have been thinking out loud about those boots that Andrew told me about, and how you will need new ones because your feet are so big now." She waggled her brows. "You know what they say about big feet, right?"
"What?"
"They need big boots."
He chuckled. "Was that supposed to be a joke?"
She pouted. "Well, yeah. Because you were expecting me to say that something else got bigger."
He hadn't, and the reminder of that something else she would be handling soon had him go even paler.
"I'd rather talk about dancing," he murmured.
"Good. I like square dancing," she said. "That's why I said cowboy boots. They also have a heel, but since I will be wearing cowgirl boots and they have a heel too, that won't give you any height advantage."
"Square dancing?" He blinked. "Like, do-si-do and swing your partner?"
"Exactly. Though I doubt you know a single move."
"I don't," he admitted. "But I'm a quick learner. Especially when properly motivated."
"And what would motivate you?"
"The chance to hold you in my arms."
She smiled. "You are such a smooth talker. Now, let's get this over with so you can get back to bed. You're shaking."
He was, his muscles trembling with the effort of remaining upright.
She practically carried him into the shower, sat him down on a specialized chair, and helped him out of the hospital gown before turning the water on and handing him the shower head.
Somehow, he managed to hold on to the plastic sprayer while she got busy with the mortifying procedure. It was made bearable only by Hildegard's gentle fingers and a steady stream of distracting chatter.
"Allemande left," she said as she worked. "That's when you turn to the person on your left and?—"
"Are you seriously explaining square dancing moves now?"
"Would you prefer I work in silence?"
"God, no. Keep talking."
"Promenade is when you walk around the square with your partner," she explained, finishing her task with her usual professional efficiency. "All done. See? That wasn't so bad."
"Speak for yourself," he muttered.
"Now to the best part," she said. "I get to wash you."
It was the best part, even if it involved further mortification when she washed his dick and backside.
