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about the television set, Chance asked if she wanted to go grab a burger
somewhere.
"No. I've got a headache. I think I'll just take a soothing bath and
order room service."
"Wouldn't do that if I were you," Harvey said. "The food here sucks."
"Oh."
"And the service is even worse."
"Why is the hotel full, then? Why isn't there another room available?" Ally
cried in despair, glaring at the television, the bellboy, and the magician.
"Well, it's full this weekend because all of you are here. Normally,
though, we don't even have enough guests to break even."
"Wilson must be losing his shirt," Chance speculated, removing his own. "God,
I
hate formal clothes."
Ally looked at his tan, well-muscled torso and felt an entirely unwelcome
response stirring in her belly. "Maybe I'll skip room service. Maybe I'll just
go right to bed. It's been a trying day."
Chance's eyes locked with hers.
"Bed," he repeated. "Uh, you want the one by the window, right?"
"Oh, yeah
," Vicky groaned.
"Yeah. The window." Ally swallowed. Maybe she should have opted for
a hamburger in a noisy place with fluorescent lights. She suddenly wondered
how she would get through a night in this room, with Chance sleeping only four
feet away and
Vicky's orgasmic sighs echoing around them in the dark.
"Harvey," Chance said. "Take a hike."
"Huh? Oh, come on, can't I at least stay until Vicky does it on the trapeze?
It was in the preview, and I really want "
"Get it on video," Chance advised him, opening the door. "Good night, Harvey."
Chapter Five
Chance groggily stepped beneath the shower spray, hoping it would help prepare
him for a grueling day after what had turned out to be the longest night of
his entire life.
Ally was sitting at a wobbly table by the window, wolfing down an unappealing
room-service breakfast as if she hadn't eaten in twenty-four
hours which she hadn't. Chance wasn't hungry, but he had thought it prudent
to order a half gallon of coffee for himself; he hadn't gotten a wink of
sleep.
He supposed that Ally's fresh-scrubbed face and well-brushed hair
weren't intended to be seductive, but it had taken all his restraint last
night not to sink to his knees and start kissing her thighs right where they
disappeared into the ragged hem of her baggy nightshirt.
Remembering the way the shirt had ridden up when she crouched
before the television set to fiddle with the controls one last time, he
groaned and reached for the shower faucet, turning it to make the water a
little colder.
In the end, they had closed the heavy doors of the pagoda-shaped entertainment
center. It had blocked out the sight of Vicky and her companions as well as
their inane dialogue, but the faint sounds of Vicky's sexual
adventures had echoed through the room all night long,heightening Chance's
frustration as he counted sheep and mentally rehearsed the illusions he would
perform the following evening.
He had tried to avoid looking at Ally's recumbent form, at the way
the sheet stretched over her breasts, the way the moonlight streaked
across the pillows to highlight her pale skin and caress the dark waves of
her hair, the way one smooth arm was flung over her head in abandon.
And then she made it worse. She spoke. "I wonder how many Vicky films there
Page 41
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
are," she murmured as a muffled cry of ecstasy pierced the night.
"I didn't know you were still awake," he whispered.
"I knew you were awake. Do you always toss and turn so much?"
"No. I& Never mind."
And so they had lain there in tense silence, trying to ignore the gasps and
moans that floated all around them, trying even harder to ignore the desire
flowing between them, filling the gulf between their beds and smothering them
with its heat.
When dawn had come at last, Chance had leapt out of bed and gone
for a five-mile run, somewhat longer than his usual workout, but a blessed
relief after a night spent twisted in knots. Ally had finally drifted off
during the early hours of the morning, and she only awoke when he
returned to the room, flushed and sweat-soaked. One look at her
rumpled hair and sleep-softened expression had
managed to completely mitigate the effects of his refreshing run, so
now he was hoping that fifteen no, make it twenty minutes in the
shower could help him recapture some peace of mind.
Ally looked up at Chance when he emerged from the bathroom after the longest
shower she had ever known any man to take. Not even her last boyfriend, the
vainest of leading men, had kept the bathroom occupied for so long. However,
one brief glance was enough to confirm that Chance hadn't spent any time
preening in front of the mirror. He wore nothing but his usual skintight,
faded blue jeans, and a towel draped around his neck. And all the
virility that entered the room with him seemed to steal her breath away.
"You ate it all," he said, glancing at the empty plates. That slow,
reluctant grin spread across his face. It made her diaphragm ache.
"It was barely enough to feed a rodent," she scoffed. "But it was
as bad as
Harvey said."
"Maybe we'll go out for lunch."
"We can't. There's that luncheon thing downstairs this afternoon. You told
Monty and Kettering you'd be there." She batted her lashes. "
People, Variety
, the
Times
.
Remember?"
"Oh, yeah," he said without much enthusiasm."Well, maybe we could
eat before " He frowned and shook his head. "No, we can't. I said
I'd go to the homeless shelter to perform for the kids there this morning."
This time he did sound enthusiastic.
"Well, good. That's more important than finding me something palatable to eat.
I
can survive on stale croissants and undercooked eggs for one weekend." She
smiled at him.
He glanced at the bedside clock. "In fact, I'd better get going."
She looked at his hair, which was tangled and wet. "Do you want
to use my blow-dryer?"
"No, thanks." He smiled sheepishly. "To tell the truth, I'm afraid of those
things."
She laughed. "Why would a man who's willing to be set on fire and sawed in
half be afraid of a blow-dryer?"
"When I was a teenager, the postmistress in our town got electrocuted with
one.
She was drying her hair before a date with the high school basketball
coach." he shrugged. "Anyhow, she spent four days in the hospital, and I
never got over the idea that one of those things could kill you."
Ally shook her head, amazed at the contrasts in Chance Weal, and poured him a
Page 42
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl akte20.pev.pl
about the television set, Chance asked if she wanted to go grab a burger
somewhere.
"No. I've got a headache. I think I'll just take a soothing bath and
order room service."
"Wouldn't do that if I were you," Harvey said. "The food here sucks."
"Oh."
"And the service is even worse."
"Why is the hotel full, then? Why isn't there another room available?" Ally
cried in despair, glaring at the television, the bellboy, and the magician.
"Well, it's full this weekend because all of you are here. Normally,
though, we don't even have enough guests to break even."
"Wilson must be losing his shirt," Chance speculated, removing his own. "God,
I
hate formal clothes."
Ally looked at his tan, well-muscled torso and felt an entirely unwelcome
response stirring in her belly. "Maybe I'll skip room service. Maybe I'll just
go right to bed. It's been a trying day."
Chance's eyes locked with hers.
"Bed," he repeated. "Uh, you want the one by the window, right?"
"Oh, yeah
," Vicky groaned.
"Yeah. The window." Ally swallowed. Maybe she should have opted for
a hamburger in a noisy place with fluorescent lights. She suddenly wondered
how she would get through a night in this room, with Chance sleeping only four
feet away and
Vicky's orgasmic sighs echoing around them in the dark.
"Harvey," Chance said. "Take a hike."
"Huh? Oh, come on, can't I at least stay until Vicky does it on the trapeze?
It was in the preview, and I really want "
"Get it on video," Chance advised him, opening the door. "Good night, Harvey."
Chapter Five
Chance groggily stepped beneath the shower spray, hoping it would help prepare
him for a grueling day after what had turned out to be the longest night of
his entire life.
Ally was sitting at a wobbly table by the window, wolfing down an unappealing
room-service breakfast as if she hadn't eaten in twenty-four
hours which she hadn't. Chance wasn't hungry, but he had thought it prudent
to order a half gallon of coffee for himself; he hadn't gotten a wink of
sleep.
He supposed that Ally's fresh-scrubbed face and well-brushed hair
weren't intended to be seductive, but it had taken all his restraint last
night not to sink to his knees and start kissing her thighs right where they
disappeared into the ragged hem of her baggy nightshirt.
Remembering the way the shirt had ridden up when she crouched
before the television set to fiddle with the controls one last time, he
groaned and reached for the shower faucet, turning it to make the water a
little colder.
In the end, they had closed the heavy doors of the pagoda-shaped entertainment
center. It had blocked out the sight of Vicky and her companions as well as
their inane dialogue, but the faint sounds of Vicky's sexual
adventures had echoed through the room all night long,heightening Chance's
frustration as he counted sheep and mentally rehearsed the illusions he would
perform the following evening.
He had tried to avoid looking at Ally's recumbent form, at the way
the sheet stretched over her breasts, the way the moonlight streaked
across the pillows to highlight her pale skin and caress the dark waves of
her hair, the way one smooth arm was flung over her head in abandon.
And then she made it worse. She spoke. "I wonder how many Vicky films there
Page 41
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
are," she murmured as a muffled cry of ecstasy pierced the night.
"I didn't know you were still awake," he whispered.
"I knew you were awake. Do you always toss and turn so much?"
"No. I& Never mind."
And so they had lain there in tense silence, trying to ignore the gasps and
moans that floated all around them, trying even harder to ignore the desire
flowing between them, filling the gulf between their beds and smothering them
with its heat.
When dawn had come at last, Chance had leapt out of bed and gone
for a five-mile run, somewhat longer than his usual workout, but a blessed
relief after a night spent twisted in knots. Ally had finally drifted off
during the early hours of the morning, and she only awoke when he
returned to the room, flushed and sweat-soaked. One look at her
rumpled hair and sleep-softened expression had
managed to completely mitigate the effects of his refreshing run, so
now he was hoping that fifteen no, make it twenty minutes in the
shower could help him recapture some peace of mind.
Ally looked up at Chance when he emerged from the bathroom after the longest
shower she had ever known any man to take. Not even her last boyfriend, the
vainest of leading men, had kept the bathroom occupied for so long. However,
one brief glance was enough to confirm that Chance hadn't spent any time
preening in front of the mirror. He wore nothing but his usual skintight,
faded blue jeans, and a towel draped around his neck. And all the
virility that entered the room with him seemed to steal her breath away.
"You ate it all," he said, glancing at the empty plates. That slow,
reluctant grin spread across his face. It made her diaphragm ache.
"It was barely enough to feed a rodent," she scoffed. "But it was
as bad as
Harvey said."
"Maybe we'll go out for lunch."
"We can't. There's that luncheon thing downstairs this afternoon. You told
Monty and Kettering you'd be there." She batted her lashes. "
People, Variety
, the
Times
.
Remember?"
"Oh, yeah," he said without much enthusiasm."Well, maybe we could
eat before " He frowned and shook his head. "No, we can't. I said
I'd go to the homeless shelter to perform for the kids there this morning."
This time he did sound enthusiastic.
"Well, good. That's more important than finding me something palatable to eat.
I
can survive on stale croissants and undercooked eggs for one weekend." She
smiled at him.
He glanced at the bedside clock. "In fact, I'd better get going."
She looked at his hair, which was tangled and wet. "Do you want
to use my blow-dryer?"
"No, thanks." He smiled sheepishly. "To tell the truth, I'm afraid of those
things."
She laughed. "Why would a man who's willing to be set on fire and sawed in
half be afraid of a blow-dryer?"
"When I was a teenager, the postmistress in our town got electrocuted with
one.
She was drying her hair before a date with the high school basketball
coach." he shrugged. "Anyhow, she spent four days in the hospital, and I
never got over the idea that one of those things could kill you."
Ally shook her head, amazed at the contrasts in Chance Weal, and poured him a
Page 42
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]