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.She looked as pale as Elsbeth’s ghost.Although proper ladies might not wear makeup in this day and age, she needed something.A discreet dash of mascara helped, as did the old-fashioned remedy of pinching her cheeks and biting her lips.She’d already used deodorant while dressing, and now she made use of her toothbrush.“Toothpaste!” Kane exclaimed, spying what she had in her hand.“You’ve got toothpaste! Where did you get it?”“A drugstore on the Upper East Side.”Kane eyed the tube longingly.“I don’t suppose you’d be willing to share some of it?”She should have turned him down flat.She was sure if the shoe were on the other foot, he’d turn her down.Or make some outrageous suggestion about what he’d want in exchange for the toothpaste.An idea occurred to her.“I’d be willing to share, providing you don’t make any more rude allegations regarding your brother and myself,” she offered.“Allegations?”“You know what I mean.”“You’re still denying that you had an affair with my brother?”“I’m categorically denying it.I have been since I first heard you make the ridiculous suggestion.”“So you’re asking me to abandon my belief in my brother’s honesty for a dab of toothpaste?”Put that way, it did sound rather shallow.But she stuck to her guns.“If we’re going to be stuck in such close quarters, it would be much easier if we weren’t at each other’s throats all the time.”“Oh, I don’t know,” Kane murmured, his voice suddenly darkly sexy.“You’ve got a lovely throat.” His gaze went to her creamy skin, visible at the opening of her blouse, the top two buttons of which she’d left undone.She was so shaken by his gaze, not to mention the passionate implication in his voice, that she almost squeezed the toothpaste tube in half.As it was, she tore her eyes away from his and made a point of not looking at him as she focused on braiding her hair and pinning it at the back of her head before putting on her great-grandmother’s garnet jewelry set again.As she was putting the toothpaste away, she found a small tube of a combined sunscreen/insect-repellent she didn’t even know she had.Since it was only a sample size, she’d have to use it sparingly.And since she didn’t want Kane dying or getting sick on her, leaving her alone to cope with nineteenth-century culture shock, she offered him the sample tube, as well.She needed to be able to talk to someone who knew about World War II, President Kennedy, Reaganomics, the Beatles, Princess Di, Bill and Hillary.“You can use some of this, too,” she added.“Without having to sell my soul for it?” Kane inquired mockingly.“Do you want it or not?”“Thanks,” he said grudgingly.“If the mosquitoes don’t kill you, thanking me will, huh?” she noted with a grin.Kane made no reply, for he already knew he was in more danger from Susannah and her passionate sensuality than from any damn mosquito.He had to do something, had to stay focused on getting out of this mess.“You’re right,” he said abruptly.“It would be easier if we called a temporary truce.We’ve got our hands full trying to figure out what we’re doing here and how to get back to our own time zone.I’m willing to table the issue of my brother until then.What do you say?”“I agree.We’ve got enough other things to worry about at the moment.” Things like yellow fever, not to mention her feverish attraction to Kane.Yes, Susannah had enough other things to worry about, all right!* * *“Good morning,” Mrs.Broadstreet greeted them at the bottom of the stairs.“I trust you both slept well?”“Yes, thanks,” Kane replied.“Actually, I was a bit concerned about yellow fever,” Susannah began as their landlady led them into the dining room.“Oh, visitations of yellow fever have been rare in this area.We haven’t had anything lately such as they had up in Memphis several years back.The sea breeze here is most wholesome.”“How reassuring.”“The outbreaks of fever have been much reduced since the time when I was a girl,” Mrs.Broadstreet went on to say.“I’m glad I didn’t visit earlier, then,” Susannah noted dryly.“I hope you’re hungry.I’ve had a nice breakfast prepared for you.”Actually, Susannah was dying for a bagel and cream cheese but she smiled her appreciation for the effort Mrs.Broadstreet had gone to.The meal was huge, and was a fried breakfast similar to those she’d been served when she’d visited England a few years back.Only this breakfast had ham and grits as well as eggs.All fried in butter or lard, no doubt.Her cholesterol level would go through the roof at this rate!The coffee was good, hot and strong.And the jam in the jam pot was homemade, as was the bread, which was delicious.Susannah stuck to bread and jam, nibbling on her fried eggs and ham enough not to appear rude.The grits she couldn’t manage at this time of morning.No doubt they were an acquired taste.A maid, in a plain black dress and white apron, served them.She acted as if she didn’t speak much English, and was not the most graceful of people.When the maid broke a glass after almost dropping a plate, Mrs.Broadstreet moaned and confessed, “It’s hard to get good help these days.They take off as quickly as they come
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