Free Razzmatazz-DDL by Patricia Burroughs Page B

have agreed to such a wager is if you’d already succumbed to my charms and decided to continue our dalliance. Now, isn’t that right?”
    She grabbed her suitcase and headed for the bathroom.
    His voice followed her. “Maybe I was only protecting my ego. It’s much easier to have you reject a coin toss than reject me personally. Perhaps I was testing the water, so to speak...without applying any undue pressure.”
    “Is that supposed to be redeeming?” she snapped as she closed the door.
    Only when her face was scrubbed with apricot cleanser and her hair was brushed to a wild, shining halo did she look at herself in the mirror and wonder if she had made a mistake by allowing him to stay. Her faded red Texas Tech Red Raider T-shirt hung halfway to her knees, a soft and comforting reminder of everything that was normal in her life. On the other side of that door was a male who reeked of sophistication and money, a devastating reminder of everything that was wildly out of balance in her life.
    What if he’d misunderstood her invitation?
    What if he tried to continue what had begun on the sofa?
    What if she didn’t stop him?
    Her fingers turned to jelly; the hairbrush clattered onto the marble countertop, and her hands shook as she shut off the flowing water.
    She took a deep breath and opened the door, prepared for battle with herself as well as Alex Carruthers. But she stepped into the dark bedroom. Only the yellow wedge of light from the bathroom offered illumination.
    On the bed, in a tangle of covers, lay Alex Carruthers. One leg extended from beneath the sheet. She followed the line up his back, to the wide shoulders exposed from the skinny T-shirt, to his dark head, which faced away from her. A soft snore broke the tense silence.
    “You heel,” she muttered, tugging the extra pillow from where he cradled it in his arms and the bedspread from the tangle at his feet. He didn’t move.
    She dragged the spread to the sofa and tossed it haphazardly into place, snapped the bathroom light off and groped her way back to her makeshift bed.
    Her irritation lasted only long enough for her own head to hit the pillow, and then she, too, was gone.

    ~o0o~

    A low voice rumbled softly, and drowsily she rolled to her side. Against her back, the sofa gave firm, comfortable support. She stared blearily at the cocktail table and its clutter from the night before. Still, that melodious voice rumbled softly behind her.
    Cautiously, she elbowed up to peek over the back of the sofa. Alex was curled on his side, the telephone cradled between his chin and shoulder as he wrote on one of the hotel’s notepads.
    He scratched his whiskered jaw and grimaced, then stretched. She watched the firm muscles move beneath his tanned skin, unable to stop herself despite the numbness seeping from her wrist to her elbow.
    “Inebriation,” he said, writing. His pen stopped, and he seemed to pale. “Misrepresentation.” He dragged his fingers through his hair. He glanced up at the mirrored ceiling, winced, then jerked his gaze back to the pad as if he couldn’t bear what he saw reflected above. “Yes, I understand. No, that won’t be necessary. I can find one on my own.”
    He placed the receiver in its cradle, his movements slow, pained. He raised his gaze and it locked with hers. “We’re in a hell of a mess.”
    Her elbow slipped, and she collapsed and found herself staring at the nubby-textured sofa cover instead of at Alex Carruthers’s unshaven cheeks.
    “I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, laughing.
    She sat up. “You didn’t tell me anything I hadn’t figured out on my own,” she grumbled, extricating herself from the jumbled bedspread. “Coffee,” she groaned. “I need coffee.”
    When she rose to her full height, Alex was crossing from his bed to the bathroom. But no sharp words about his unchivalrous behavior would form on her lips, for she was agape at the sight of his broad shoulders, long legs and patterned boxer