“The signal’s even worse at the pool,” he said, slamming the hotel door shut behind him.
She sauntered out of the bathroom. She’d been assembling one of her poolside outfits. “Oh no, dear. That’s terrible.”
He grunted. “Wouldn’t matter anyway. The way the signal keeps dropping, there’d be no logging into meetings.”
She placed a hand on the doorframe to balance herself and lifted one knee. “Do you think these sandals are silly for the pool?” She waved one manicured foot side to side.
They were absurdly strappy and teeteringly tall. A ridiculous thing to totter around the pool in. The steep tilt of the foot-bed brought out the curve of her calves. His eyes traveled up, past the toney dimple of her knees, to the lush curve of thigh that disappeared behind the hem of her coverup.
He smiled, his voice hoarse. “Maybe no internet is a good thing.”