wrap themselves around his hands, making him itch to...
"Dr. Murray? Are you ready?"
Alexander's mind snapped back to the task. It was a job, nothing more. No different than bandaging a wound or rolling pills. He took the brush from her soft fingers. He pulled it through, starting at the crown, working his way back to the ends, gently unsnarling the inevitable tangles.
From this angle behind her he could see the rise and fall of her chest. Her dress was misbuttoned at the neck and a patch of skin at her collarbone peeked through, paler than the soft pink of her garment, and flushed with life.
Wonderful. Now he was not only in this humiliating position, but he had to step back from the chair or Miss Farnham would realize he was not in control of his body. He concentrated on the task, but it did not help. Not at all. It did not matter that she had nothing but air between her ears. She was still a young and nubile woman and he had a good imagination. He envisioned these curls loose around her shoulders. Not like now, when she was dressed in her badly fastened gown, but falling over her naked shoulders as she sat astride him, her hair curtaining her ample breasts, breasts whose form he could make out from this angle above her. She would look good riding him...
"You have done this before, Doctor."
That was exactly what he needed to bring himself back to the present. The memories her comment evoked were of a different girl, one whose brown hair was straight and long.
"Yes, I know how to brush and braid a woman's hair."
"Your wife?" Miss Farnham's voice was a touch lower and huskier.
"No. I am a bachelor, Miss Farnham. Pass me the ribbon."
He efficiently braided the mass of gold and tied off the end tightly.
"This will do for you for while aboard ship, Miss Farnham. A simple means of keeping your hair in place. Do you know how to make a braid?"
She looked up from where she was examining the rope of hair falling over her shoulder.
"I think so."
"Bring me three more ribbons. I will demonstrate."
In short order he'd braided together ribbons of pink, yellow and violet.
"Ooooh, how colorful! I believe I shall wear that braided ribbon today."
"I made that to demonstrate for you how to braid, Miss Farnham, not as an adornment."
She looked up at him, a smile dimpling her cheeks.
"But even instructional materials can be pretty, Doctor. And do you not think that now you can call me Daphne?"
"No. Stand up and I will adjust the fastenings in your garment."
She sighed, but stood, obediently as a child. But she was far from being a child. He adjusted her tapes, all the while itching to unfasten them. Purely the natural reaction of a man too long at sea, and he reluctantly saw the wisdom in Captain Franklin's arrangement. If he was tempted by the charms of Miss Farnham, how much worse would it be for the crew, who were not medical men but sailors used to women of easy virtue?
"There. Your task until suppertime, Miss Farnham, is to go through your wardrobe and find those garments most practical. Look for items that can be fastened with a minimum of effort on both our parts."
"Oh dear. I imagine this means I will not be dressing for supper."
"If it involves me, no, you will not. Stay in your clothes, Miss Farnham until I return to undress you tonight."
His words hung in the air between them, and Alexander felt heat rise up his neck.
"Of course, Dr. Murray."
Alexander gave her a stern look, but her blank face showed no understanding of the double meaning of his words.
It was all to the good, her not being very bright. If she were intelligent, she might be dangerous.
* * * *
The cabin door closed behind him and Daphne buried her face in a pillow, biting it to keep from bursting into laughter. The look on poor old Dr. Murray's face! Really, as if she would have anything to do with a stick like him!
As soon as she'd thought the words though she remembered the feel of his strong hands in her hair. The way he stroked the
"Dr. Murray? Are you ready?"
Alexander's mind snapped back to the task. It was a job, nothing more. No different than bandaging a wound or rolling pills. He took the brush from her soft fingers. He pulled it through, starting at the crown, working his way back to the ends, gently unsnarling the inevitable tangles.
From this angle behind her he could see the rise and fall of her chest. Her dress was misbuttoned at the neck and a patch of skin at her collarbone peeked through, paler than the soft pink of her garment, and flushed with life.
Wonderful. Now he was not only in this humiliating position, but he had to step back from the chair or Miss Farnham would realize he was not in control of his body. He concentrated on the task, but it did not help. Not at all. It did not matter that she had nothing but air between her ears. She was still a young and nubile woman and he had a good imagination. He envisioned these curls loose around her shoulders. Not like now, when she was dressed in her badly fastened gown, but falling over her naked shoulders as she sat astride him, her hair curtaining her ample breasts, breasts whose form he could make out from this angle above her. She would look good riding him...
"You have done this before, Doctor."
That was exactly what he needed to bring himself back to the present. The memories her comment evoked were of a different girl, one whose brown hair was straight and long.
"Yes, I know how to brush and braid a woman's hair."
"Your wife?" Miss Farnham's voice was a touch lower and huskier.
"No. I am a bachelor, Miss Farnham. Pass me the ribbon."
He efficiently braided the mass of gold and tied off the end tightly.
"This will do for you for while aboard ship, Miss Farnham. A simple means of keeping your hair in place. Do you know how to make a braid?"
She looked up from where she was examining the rope of hair falling over her shoulder.
"I think so."
"Bring me three more ribbons. I will demonstrate."
In short order he'd braided together ribbons of pink, yellow and violet.
"Ooooh, how colorful! I believe I shall wear that braided ribbon today."
"I made that to demonstrate for you how to braid, Miss Farnham, not as an adornment."
She looked up at him, a smile dimpling her cheeks.
"But even instructional materials can be pretty, Doctor. And do you not think that now you can call me Daphne?"
"No. Stand up and I will adjust the fastenings in your garment."
She sighed, but stood, obediently as a child. But she was far from being a child. He adjusted her tapes, all the while itching to unfasten them. Purely the natural reaction of a man too long at sea, and he reluctantly saw the wisdom in Captain Franklin's arrangement. If he was tempted by the charms of Miss Farnham, how much worse would it be for the crew, who were not medical men but sailors used to women of easy virtue?
"There. Your task until suppertime, Miss Farnham, is to go through your wardrobe and find those garments most practical. Look for items that can be fastened with a minimum of effort on both our parts."
"Oh dear. I imagine this means I will not be dressing for supper."
"If it involves me, no, you will not. Stay in your clothes, Miss Farnham until I return to undress you tonight."
His words hung in the air between them, and Alexander felt heat rise up his neck.
"Of course, Dr. Murray."
Alexander gave her a stern look, but her blank face showed no understanding of the double meaning of his words.
It was all to the good, her not being very bright. If she were intelligent, she might be dangerous.
* * * *
The cabin door closed behind him and Daphne buried her face in a pillow, biting it to keep from bursting into laughter. The look on poor old Dr. Murray's face! Really, as if she would have anything to do with a stick like him!
As soon as she'd thought the words though she remembered the feel of his strong hands in her hair. The way he stroked the
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