Exton

Why not?

"Just tell me where you want me, hon." I unbutton my shirt, ease it off my shoulders.

Wordlessly, she waves toward the kitchen. I get up and follow her lead. She flips on the light and then lights a small lantern as well - from what I've seen so far, the kitchen is the only room with electric light. She has me shift position a few times till she's satisfied, then folds herself onto the ground and begins to work. For several minutes the only sound is the scratching of her pencil.  Every now and again, I snatch a quick glimpse over my shoulder. She's intent on her work, but her breathing is quicker than normal, and her face seems flushed.

Nah. Can't be.

Can it?