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. Sheplucked a navy hand towel from the pile of purchases he d pegged as superfluous. Some of the dyealways comes off on the towel.If we don t want the motel operators to know what we ve been up to,we better use our own.And remove our own garbage. He shot her a look. Hey, you are pretty good at this.I m definitely calling you next time. Ofcourse, the need to remove their garbage had already occurred to him, but he wouldn t have thought tobuy towels.He d have just taken the motel s stained ones with him.By the time he d finished with the shower and pulled his jeans back on, Grace declared her owncolor ready to come off.He busied himself laying out the barbering stuff, but there was no shutting outthe sound of the shower through the paper-thin walls.No shutting out the mental image of Gracestanding under the spray, rivulets of water streaming down her body.At last, the shower stopped.The plumbing made a loud hammering as she shut off the taps.Minuteslater, she emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam, her hair wrapped in a dark towel. That bad, eh? She looked at him questioningly and he gestured toward the towel. Oh. She lifted a hand to it as though she d forgotten it. No, not that bad.Though I gave myself astart when I first looked in the mirror. Tell me about it, he said dryly, running a hand through his own nearly dry hair.It was so.yellow. So, am I gonna get a look at it? Grace unwound the little towel and shook her hair out.She combed her fingers through the tangles. What do you think? He d been prepared for fire engine red. It doesn t look a lot different.Darker, maybe. Hah! Just wait ll it dries, or until you get a look at it under a better light source than that grimysixty-watt bulb. You sound like you know what you re talking about. She shrugged. My mother had red hair for a while.A little goes a long way. Ray wasn t sure whether Grace s last observation pertained to red dye or her mother.Both, hesuspected. I don t suppose you have any hair-cutting experience? She smiled. Actually, I do. You do? How the hell had she come by that? Well, sort of.Dog clipping. You were a dog groomer? How come I didn t know that? She picked up the scissors and tested them, seemingly satisfied by the rasp of the sharp carbon blades. Just for Mama.I learned to clip the poodles to save the grooming fees. Right.Ostentation on a budget.That was Elizabeth Dempsey s style.And usually at her daughter sexpense.He d long ago given up voicing those thoughts.Grace always rushed to defend her mother, awoman who wouldn t return the favor. Poodles, eh? He eyed the scissors in her hand with exaggerated wariness.Frankly, he wasn t tooconcerned, but he didn t mind pretending if it would take that look off Grace s face, the one shealways got when she talked about her mother.She laughed. Don t worry, I won t make you look like Fi-Fi.Now, go wet your hair a little so wecan get on with this. A minute later he sat astride a chair, arms resting on its back, while Grace cut his hair.If havingher color it had been bad, this was worse.At the first touch of her fingers in his hair, he closed his eyes, only to find it intensified thesensations skating over his skin.He opened his eyes to find her breasts at eye level, just inches away.With both arms elevated, her hands busy in his hair, her bosom looked lusher than ever.He droppedhis gaze, which settled on the leather belt cinched at her waist.She d changed into a fresh t-shirt,which was tucked into her soft faded jeans.Damnation.Why did she look so.perfect?Not literally perfect.Hell, just look at her hips.They were way too narrow, almost boyish, and herwaist didn t dip in that classically feminine hourglass shape.Her breasts, on the other hand, wereimprobably generous for her slim frame, creating an imbalance that he knew made her self-conscious.And her face.He didn t need to look at her to picture the flaws.Her forehead was a little too highfor true beauty, her nose too broad, and she had that very slight overbite.No, she was far fromperfect.But she was perfect for him.She always had been.And when she smiled, she lit up from within.He shifted, cleared his throat. We about through? Through? Ray, I just got started.Now, sit still, would you? He dropped his hands to grip the back of the chair, but complied with her order to hold still.Thankfully, she moved to the side, taking the full-frontal view with her.He breathed a little easier,until her breast brushed his shoulder as she leaned in close to comb his hair straight up so she couldgrasp a lock between two fingers.He tightened his grip on the chair.Snip, snip.Another clump of hair, yellow and startling, fell to the newspaper they d spread on thefloor.That s it, Morgan.Just keep watching the floor.Except now that he wasn t looking at her, he became more aware of her scent.It teased at hissenses, the motel soap combining with her skin to produce a new fragrance, familiar but different.Lord, she smelled good.Warm, clean, his.No, not his.Not any more.Except he kept remembering the way she d responded to him in the car [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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. Sheplucked a navy hand towel from the pile of purchases he d pegged as superfluous. Some of the dyealways comes off on the towel.If we don t want the motel operators to know what we ve been up to,we better use our own.And remove our own garbage. He shot her a look. Hey, you are pretty good at this.I m definitely calling you next time. Ofcourse, the need to remove their garbage had already occurred to him, but he wouldn t have thought tobuy towels.He d have just taken the motel s stained ones with him.By the time he d finished with the shower and pulled his jeans back on, Grace declared her owncolor ready to come off.He busied himself laying out the barbering stuff, but there was no shutting outthe sound of the shower through the paper-thin walls.No shutting out the mental image of Gracestanding under the spray, rivulets of water streaming down her body.At last, the shower stopped.The plumbing made a loud hammering as she shut off the taps.Minuteslater, she emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam, her hair wrapped in a dark towel. That bad, eh? She looked at him questioningly and he gestured toward the towel. Oh. She lifted a hand to it as though she d forgotten it. No, not that bad.Though I gave myself astart when I first looked in the mirror. Tell me about it, he said dryly, running a hand through his own nearly dry hair.It was so.yellow. So, am I gonna get a look at it? Grace unwound the little towel and shook her hair out.She combed her fingers through the tangles. What do you think? He d been prepared for fire engine red. It doesn t look a lot different.Darker, maybe. Hah! Just wait ll it dries, or until you get a look at it under a better light source than that grimysixty-watt bulb. You sound like you know what you re talking about. She shrugged. My mother had red hair for a while.A little goes a long way. Ray wasn t sure whether Grace s last observation pertained to red dye or her mother.Both, hesuspected. I don t suppose you have any hair-cutting experience? She smiled. Actually, I do. You do? How the hell had she come by that? Well, sort of.Dog clipping. You were a dog groomer? How come I didn t know that? She picked up the scissors and tested them, seemingly satisfied by the rasp of the sharp carbon blades. Just for Mama.I learned to clip the poodles to save the grooming fees. Right.Ostentation on a budget.That was Elizabeth Dempsey s style.And usually at her daughter sexpense.He d long ago given up voicing those thoughts.Grace always rushed to defend her mother, awoman who wouldn t return the favor. Poodles, eh? He eyed the scissors in her hand with exaggerated wariness.Frankly, he wasn t tooconcerned, but he didn t mind pretending if it would take that look off Grace s face, the one shealways got when she talked about her mother.She laughed. Don t worry, I won t make you look like Fi-Fi.Now, go wet your hair a little so wecan get on with this. A minute later he sat astride a chair, arms resting on its back, while Grace cut his hair.If havingher color it had been bad, this was worse.At the first touch of her fingers in his hair, he closed his eyes, only to find it intensified thesensations skating over his skin.He opened his eyes to find her breasts at eye level, just inches away.With both arms elevated, her hands busy in his hair, her bosom looked lusher than ever.He droppedhis gaze, which settled on the leather belt cinched at her waist.She d changed into a fresh t-shirt,which was tucked into her soft faded jeans.Damnation.Why did she look so.perfect?Not literally perfect.Hell, just look at her hips.They were way too narrow, almost boyish, and herwaist didn t dip in that classically feminine hourglass shape.Her breasts, on the other hand, wereimprobably generous for her slim frame, creating an imbalance that he knew made her self-conscious.And her face.He didn t need to look at her to picture the flaws.Her forehead was a little too highfor true beauty, her nose too broad, and she had that very slight overbite.No, she was far fromperfect.But she was perfect for him.She always had been.And when she smiled, she lit up from within.He shifted, cleared his throat. We about through? Through? Ray, I just got started.Now, sit still, would you? He dropped his hands to grip the back of the chair, but complied with her order to hold still.Thankfully, she moved to the side, taking the full-frontal view with her.He breathed a little easier,until her breast brushed his shoulder as she leaned in close to comb his hair straight up so she couldgrasp a lock between two fingers.He tightened his grip on the chair.Snip, snip.Another clump of hair, yellow and startling, fell to the newspaper they d spread on thefloor.That s it, Morgan.Just keep watching the floor.Except now that he wasn t looking at her, he became more aware of her scent.It teased at hissenses, the motel soap combining with her skin to produce a new fragrance, familiar but different.Lord, she smelled good.Warm, clean, his.No, not his.Not any more.Except he kept remembering the way she d responded to him in the car [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]