by Sandra Hill
"She's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Nay, that's not true. She's the most desirable woman I've ever seen. Magnificent."
"Huh?" his comrades said.
The woman had just noticed them. When her eyes connected with his in passing, they returned immediately, then widened with surprise. Yea, he was a good looking man. An Arab princess had told him one time that he exuded virility. Even bald, he would imagine he could turn a female head. He puffed his chest out and waited for her approach.
Several of his fellow prisoners laughed. One of them asked, "What's with the interest in the good doctor?"
All the others had opinions, too.
"That must have been some knock on the head."
"The chief is going to make seal soup out of this bozo."
"I'm taking bets she flattens him for looking at her like that."
"I think he's got a hard-on over frickin' G.I. Jane."
"No one has a hard-on after a fifteen-mile run. His jock strap must be full of sand, just like the rest of us."
"Man oh man, I can't decide whether I should go eat or stay to watch this fiasco unfold."
They all stayed.
But Ragnor did not care about their teasing. He looked at the woman who strode toward them with fire in her eyes.
"It would seem I have regained my 'enthusiasm,' " he murmured to himself. And for the first time in what seemed like forever, he smiled.
* * *
SANDRA HILL
Humor has become a trademark of Sandra Hill's novels. As the wife of a stockbroker and mother of four sons, she learned long ago that laughter is a necessary survival skill in the all-male bastion Hill calls home. As a former newspaper journalist dealing with serious issues, she discovered the merits of seeking the lighter side of even the darkest stories.
Ms. Hill loves hearing from her readers. She can be reached at:
P.O. Box 604
State College, PA 16804
E-mail: [email protected].
Information on her books is on the Internet at:
www.sandrahill.net
