The Tame (ON HOLD)

Of rejected towels

Phina didn't know why she felt the sudden urge to leap for her towel and wrap it tightly around her. There was this thing she knew as self preservation and the other thing of Brendan's hot stare. His gaze was so intense it felt like a nuclear bomb had gone clean right through her.

When one has lived in a previous life protected by the strong walls of a convent, and has seen men only publicly, there could develop a certain attitude akin to embarrassment when in the sole presence of a male. Especially when she was half dressed in a skin-tight swimsuit. Moreover, when Lorraine had convinced her a few months ago to wear the flimsy number to the club and she'd met Brendan unofficially, there had been a hundred eyes going about them for her to feel overly embarrassed.

She wondered if her gauzy swimsuit failed to cover a part which needed to be covered. Perhaps her curves weren't in the right places...perhaps she was too thin...perhaps he silently mocked her appearance in his head...perhaps...Phina shut her wandering mind off its pessimistic thoughts.

She was beautiful, she knew this because she'd felt the admiring stares of men anytime the Dame had taken her to a gala or party, and her mirror had always told her so. She'd once attended a gala with Lorraine, and one man -- probably a lawyer by his vast knowledge of law which he'd voiced out -- had stared at her while pouring his wine until the glass had filled and began overpouring down the table. Of course Phina had been flattered, but she never for once was arrogant and proud of her looks.

So if Brendan took to the staring game,...fine. Two could play at that. A thought struck her. Brendan never ventured near the pool room without ascertaining whether it was occupied or not. Which means he might have asked; and which better person to ask than the head matron?

Phina bristled. Florence, that crafty old lady had set them up! She should have guessed it a long time ago. She couldn't blame her though. The maids were bored of a life without drama in a huge cruiser and this was Florence's way of ensuring that salt was added to the broth. It wouldn't surprise Phina if the women were peeping behind doors and eavesdropping.

Her scrutiny dropped to Brendan's chest. He was shirtless, and looked even taller than before. She diverted her eyes, but they still found their way back to that mouthwatering torso. Did anyone say mouthwatering? Gosh, no one's supposed to say that out loud.

He definitely was fond of the gym. There wasn't an atom of fat left on his chiseled abs; his front was simply a fine work of sculpture. His arms hung in biceps, and they flexed and unflexed anytime he unknowingly clenched his fists. His khaki shorts lay snug on his broad hips, and the drawstring was loosened as if he'd been preparing to pull it off.

Phina shuddered. He noticed.

"You shouldn't be swimming if you're sporting a cold," he said in a strong voice, perhaps obvious of Florence's wits too.

Phina bit her bottom lip. Indeed she was very cold; she'd stayed in the water for too long but would rather die than admit it. She stuttered, "I...uhm...I...it wasn't...", not finding enough words to describe the situation she coughed delicately and just kept mute.

"I didn't know you were here, or I would have kept my distance", he said, almost apologetic. He didn't mention Florence, that old catwoman!

Phina fumed. She didn't want him to keep his distance. She didn't want him to sound apologetic...like...like they were strangers stranded on a desert and he wasn't supposed to be there.

"But since I'm already here I hope you won't mind," he stated with the assurance of a man who knew he didn't have to seek permission in his own domain, and settled on the chaise longue.

Phina bit back a groan. So perfect! Now how was she going to get her towel when it was locked between his shoulders and the chair?

"You want this?", Brendan asked. He held a heavy white towel in his arms and looked inquiringly at her. Ah, so he didn't know he was leaning on her towel? That was understandable since her towel wasn't wet and the colour matched with the material of the chaise. But Phina didn't voice that out.

Brendan was being considerate and she wouldn't for the life of her reject his thoughtfulness. She reached for the heavy bundle -- darn it weighed on her arms!-- and wiped her face.

So doing, she inhaled his scent. The towel smelled of a mixture between sandalwood and lavender, and was so intoxicating.

When she was done, she handed him the towel. He refused to take it.

"I'll send for Florence to bring me another one," he said with a shake of his head, "you can discard this one."

Phina was hurt. How dare he! She never reeked of any scent other than rose and chamomile. He had been rude to her before, but this was just out of context.

Her gaze steady on him, she asked in a wobbly but firm voice -- she wouldn't let the hurt show -- "Why won't you take it back? Do you think I smell?"

He must have seen her hurt and embarrassment despite her strong mask because he stood and growled, "I may speak against a woman, but I'll never think of a thing as vain as body odour, or worse, say it out loud."

He glanced sideways at her. "And who says you smell? If you'd even smelled vaguely of a day's sweat, you think my mother would have thought you the best candidate for her son?"

Phina visibly relaxed. So she didn't smell..., well that was comforting. But she had to know the real reason why he wouldn't take the towel.

"So why won't you take it back?",she asked again.

Brendan settled back into the chaise. "I don't have to explain myself to you."

"Since it concerns me I demand an expla..."

Brendan growled, "Nobody demands anything of me! Let this day be the first and last you tread such dangerous grounds!"

Phina stopped cold. This man wasn't friendly, he was far from it. He treated her like she was his worst foe.

Lowering her eyes, she apologized, "I'm sorry. Forgive my inquisitive nature."

She turned toward the door and didn't see Brendan's exasperated shake of his head.

"We're married, but more like strangers. And I won't mix my sweat with that of a woman I don't know."

Phina swerved around and spoke with finality, "I am not any woman! I am your wife and the would-be mother of your children. You better start getting used to that and stop behaving like a child!"

Brendan's eyes turned murderous as he rose from the door and began toward her. "You shouldn't have said that."

Her heart sank. She knew a dangerous situation when she saw one. She'd just hurt the ego of a man whose mother never even spoke to him without subtle respect. Phina fled as fast as her legs could carry her.

A/N: Guys I just took a pledge to take part in this month's #justwriteit contest. It's horror themed so I've decided to bring my game up. I posted my first horror story, ASWANG, and it can be found on my profile.
Please do check it out and tell me if you like it ;)

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