It said how high the falls were we were going to hike to, how much water came over them per minute, and how many olympic sized swimming pools it would fill per hour and all that kind of stuff.The hike was normal too. Oddly, even when she hiked in front of me I was able to keep from getting a boner. I think that was because she was acting so normal about it, so it made me feel more normal too. And by the time we got there we were both feeling it in our legs, and sitting on a bench, just watching the water thunder down into a big, bubbly pool was fun. It was easy to let your mind go blank as you watched all that water swirling around. There was a mist from the falls, and it drifted towards us, but that felt good too, because we were both hot and sweaty from the hike.We ate sandwiches there and then hiked back, which was easier because it was all downhill. Still, when we got back we both wanted to go for a swim."Is my bikini going to be a problem?" she asked, with a half-smile on her. 'High-end Gothic' might get close to describing her. Her hair was black, as was her outfit, and her skin was pale, almost translucent. She was tall and dressed in a way that was beyond fashionable. Her jacket and skirt were of the business variety, but too tight and too liberally cut to be businesslike — as were her laced, high-heeled vintage boots.The woman moved gracefully towards her table. Her hand was warm and strong, her smile spontaneous, but her green eyes stayed intensely watchful, brooding even. Then there was the voice — low and hoarse. It lilted with a European accent she could not place; but it went straight to a nerve that made the small hairs on her forearms rise.They'd ordered salads and talked. First about the business proposition Angique had called her about 'while she was in New York anyway'; then about more and more personal things while the white wine flowed. The soft, hoarse voice spun a web around the two of them; a gauze tent of intimacy. The green eyes became.
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