As the lights dropped and the opening titles of the picture began to roll, Anthony took my hand in his. A tiny corner of my mind screamed at me how in...ppropriate that was, but I told it to shut up: I liked the feel of his big warm hand wrapped around mine. It happened as the scene began where Oliver Reed and Alan Bates wrestle nude. I’ve always found that particularly erotic, and that was my only excuse. I didn’t even think about what I was doing: on auto-pilot, my hand disengaged from. “Afraid? Why?”“Because I didn’t know how to respond to what happened.”“You? But you’re always so confident and always know what to do!”“Not this time,” I said.“Why?”“I think that’s a pretty long discussion. We’ll have four hours on the plane, if that’s OK. Do you mind if I get my shower? I’m sweaty and smelly and we need breakfast.”“I suppose that’s OK,” she sniffed. “Can I wash my face first?”“Sure.”She got up from the bed, scooped up all of the used tissues, and went into the bathroom. She. More

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