The music cut off and the door was yanked open. The sight left Martya staring.

Katya was a very beautiful blonde, just medium height with bright blue eyes that could be cold as a shark or innocent as a virgin depending on her choice and mood. At the moment she was looking pissed, but not deadly. What had Martya’s attention, though, was that she was wearing a two-piece bathing suit and the top was dangling from her hand, leaving her topless.

The girls, naturally, had often seen each other naked. But answering the door holding the top of your bathing suit was unusual. As was wearing one in the depths of the Georgian winter. It was below zero Celsius outside and blowing hard. A bathing suit didn’t make much sense. Even with the heaters, the caravanserai was cold.

“Katya, please,” Martya said. “We cannot study with all the noise.”

“That’s a problem,” Katya admitted, lowering the suit. “Because I’m studying.”

“What?” Martya said, then noticed that there was another woman in the room. She was older and dressed in Western clothes. Not very pretty even when she was younger, Martya was sure.

“That you don’t need to know,” Katya replied.

“Can you at least stop the whooping?” Martya asked. “That is what is getting us.”

“No, I need to do the whooping,” Katya said. “I won’t be doing this much longer. I think.”

“Okay,” Martya said with a sigh. “Sorry to have bothered you.”

“No problem,” Katya said. “I just need to get back in character.”

“Okay,” Martya said as the door closed in her face. “What did that mean?”

“I have to wonder if this is really necessary,” Katya said, waving the bathing suit back and forth. “And I’m freezing.”

“You’d be surprised how cold it can get at Daytona Beach in spring,” Jay replied, gesturing with his chin at the muted TV set. “Look at the nipples. Most of those girls are quite cold.”