Myron could not stop grinning. “I see.”

She stood and reached out her hand to him. “Now how about that shower?”

“Uh, can we talk first?”

Puzzlement shadowed her face. “Is there something wrong?”

Myron feigned embarrassment. “Aren’t you married?”

“And that bothers you?”

Not really. “Yes. I guess it does.”

“Admirable,” she said.

“Thank you.”

“Stupid too.”

“Thank you.”

She laughed. “Actually, it’s sweet. But Dean Gordon and I have what we call a semi-open marriage.”

Hmm. “Could you elaborate a little?”

“Elaborate?”

“Just to make me feel more comfortable about all this.”

She sat back down. The white skirt might as well not have been there. Her legs could best be described as scrumptious. “I’ve never had to elaborate before,” she said.

“I realize that. But I’m interested.”

Arched eyebrow. “In?”

“Can we start with your definition of semi-open?”

She sighed. “My husband and I have been close friends since childhood. Our parents summered together in Hyannis Port. We were both from the ‘right families.’ ” She made little quote marks in the air when she said “right families.” “We thought that would be enough. But it wasn’t.”

“So why not divorce?”

She looked a question. “Why am I telling you this?”

“My honest blue eyes,” he said. “They’re hypnotic.”

“Maybe they are.”

Now Myron gave her aw-shucks modesty. Mr. Adaptable Face.

“My husband is politically connected. He was an ambassador. He’s next in line to be university president. If we get divorced—”

“That ends,” Myron finished.

“Yes. Even these days, the hint of scandal can destroy a career and a lifestyle. But more than that, Harrison and I are still dear friends. Best friends, really. It’s just that we need limited outside stimulation.”

“Limited?”

“Once every two months,” she said.

Yikes. “How did you come up with that number?” he asked. “Some kind of new algorithm, perhaps?”

She smiled. “Lots of discussions. Negotiations, really. Once a month seemed like too much. Once a semester too little.”

Myron nodded at her. Toto, we’re not in Kansas anymore.

“And we always use a condom,” she added. “That’s part of the arrangement.”

“I see.”

“Do you have one?” she asked. “A condom.”

“On?”

She smiled. “I have some upstairs.”

“Can I ask one more thing?”

“If you must.”

“How do you and your husband know that the other has kept to their, er, limit?”

“Easy,” she said. “We tell each other. Everything. Helps spice things up a little.”

Madelaine was seriously strange, which only made her more attractive to Myron.

“Your husband. Does he ever fool around with co-eds?”

She leaned forward and put her hand on his thigh. Upper thigh. Upper, upper thigh. “That kind of thing turn you on?”

“Yeah.” He tried a rakish smile. But rakish was not him. He could see in her eyes that she wasn’t buying it.

Madelaine took back her hand. “What are you up to, Myron?” she asked.

“Up to?”

“I feel like I’m being used,” she said. “But not the way I had in mind.”

Man. “Just getting in the mood.”

“I don’t think so, Myron.” She studied him for moment. “Be honest for a second. Are we going to go to bed?”

“No,” he said. “We’re not.”

“I’ve never been turned down before.”

“And I’ve never turned down a proposition like this before,” Myron said. “Come to think of it, I’ve never had a proposition like this before.”

“Is it because I’m married?”

“No.”

“Are you involved with someone else?” she asked.

“Worse. I’m on the cusp of something that means a great deal to me. I don’t know which way I’m going to fall. I’m confused.”

“That’s sweet.”

Again he gave her aw-shucks.

“If it doesn’t work out …?” she said.

“I’ll be back.”

She kissed him then. Hard. It was a damn good kiss. He felt it in his toes.

“Just the overture,” she said.

He’d be dead before the second scene. “I really do have to talk to your husband. Do you know when he’ll be home?”

“Not for a while. But he’s at the office across campus. By himself. You’ll have to knock loudly for him to hear you.”

He rose. “Thanks.”

“Myron?”

“Yes?”

“We never use names when we discuss our affairs. I don’t know if Harrison fools around with co-eds. I would doubt it highly.”

“How about Kathy Culver?”

She visibly jumped. Her face stiffened. “I think you better leave now.”

“The honest blue eyes,” Myron said. “Watch the honest blue eyes.”

“Not this time. And when I watched you play, it wasn’t your eyes I looked at.”

“Oh?”

“Your ass,” she said. “It looked nice in those little shorts.”

Myron felt cheap. Or ecstatic. Probably ecstatic. “Were they having an affair?” he asked.

She said nothing.

“I’ll shake my ass if I have to.”

“They weren’t having an affair,” she said firmly. “That much I know.”

“So why did you get all bent out of shape?”

“You were asking if my husband had an illicit affair with a co-ed who was probably murdered. I was taken aback.”

“Did you know Kathy Culver?”

“No.”

“Did your husband ever talk about her?”

“Not really. I just know she worked in his office.” She looked at the grandfather clock, stood, and led him to the door. “Talk to my husband, Myron. He’s a good man. He’ll tell you everything you need to know.”

“Like?”

She shook her head. “Thanks for visiting.”