Must be repressive, I imagine. Don’t you ever wish you could, uh, indulge in whatever you repress?” “Believe me, I do.” Hatshepsut widened her...grin and batted her eyelashes. “Come to think of it, Mikha’El, you’re actually quite comely.” She drummed her fingers onto his tunic. “I want to see what your chest looks like.” “I shall gladly oblige, Your Majesty.” Mikha’El slipped the tunic off to reveal his chiseled abdominals. “How do you like it?” Hatshepsut stroked her hands up and down his torso. He pulled a small whisk broom from his other pocket and brushed the gravestone till it was clean, then put the brush back in his pocket.With great effort, he shifted into a sitting position. It was time to tell her."I have some bad news," he said. "I'm moving into a senior citizen home. My daughters have insisted. I have all these health problems, and they're worried about me living alone. It's for the best, I guess."His eyes misted up. "I won't be able to come back, though. They're taking my. More

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