Shadow Waltz Read Online Free PDF Page B

against her right ankle.
    She opened her eyes to find that her torso was safely cradled in Creighton’s arms, but her foot was wedged firmly in the siphon part of the bowl. She struggled to pull herself free, but the suction created by the flush, as well as the increasing pressure caused by the cascade of fresh, albeit rust-tinged, water made it impossible.
    â€œI’m stuck! Oh Creighton, help!”
    Creighton obediently let Marjorie’s left leg drop to the floor and then, placing a hand under each of her arms, braced himself against the wall. “All right, on the count of three, pull! Ready? One … two … three … go!”
    The couple pulled as hard as they could, grunting and groaning with every tug, yet, despite all their efforts, the only visible results were Marjorie’s dress being yanked to scandalous heights, Creighton being pinned, by an overzealous Marjorie, against the wall, and an ever-expanding pool of murky water on the floor.
    â€œIt’s no use,” he sighed. “We’re going to have to remove your shoe.”
    â€œOh no! I love these shoes.”
    â€œWell, it’s either you or the shoes, darling.”
    â€œThere’s no other way to get my foot out of there?”
    â€œThere is, but I don’t think you want me summoning the Hartford Fire Department to get your foot out of a loo.”
    â€œNot particularly,” she pouted. “Go ahead and take the shoe off.”
    â€œMe?” he nearly shouted. “It was your idea to stand up there, and it’s your shoe.”
    â€œPlease,” she pleaded. “That water is so—so—brown.”
    â€œMmm, right up Jameson’s alley. Too bad he isn’t here to lend a hand.”
    Marjorie sulked as she smoothed her dress into place.
    Creighton chuckled. “You needn’t bother. Any enjoyment I might derive from the sight of your bare thigh is mitigated by what’s at the oth er end of your calf.”
    She placed her hands on her hips and thrust her nose into the air. Water continued to stream onto the tile floor.
    Creighton laughed even harder. “Only you could manage to get caught in such an absurd situation. And only you could still try to look dignified with your foot in a—well, a crapper.” Still chuckling, he removed his jacket, slung it over the bathroom door, and proceeded to roll up his sleeves.
    Marjorie jolted to life. “What are you doing?”
    â€œYou know precisely what I’m doing. I’m taking off your shoe.”
    â€œOh thank you, Creighton! You’re so good to me.”
    He bent down, dipped one hand into the rusty water and pulled it out again. “Anything for you, my dear. Anything …” He scrutinized the flesh of his palm, grimaced “… for …” and then plunged it back into the bowl “… you.”

    It took Creighton thirty minutes to extricate Marjorie from her watery captivity.
    She immediately leaned against the tiled bathroom wall and massaged her sore foot. The tops of her toes were bruised and a red li ne marked where the vamp of her shoe had dug into the metatarsal area. “Whew, that’s much better. Now all I need is my shoe and—hey, where’d my shoe go?”
    Creighton pointed at the siphon. “Down there.”
    â€œNo, there has to be a way to get it back. What about a plunger? ”
    â€œDid you see any?”
    Marjorie shook her head.
    â€œNeither did I,” he continued. “But what’s even worse than the loss of your shoe is that if we don’t find a way to shut the water off, this place will be flooded.” Creighton bent down and, reaching behind the bowl, grabbed a small, rusty valve. “This should do it,” he announced.
    He knelt down and attempted to push the regulating device to the left. Marjorie watched admiringly as the muscles in her fiancé’s forearm tightened and tensed as he utilized more and more