contemplated the meaning of
Mame’s change in game plan. She and Mame had reserved rooms with two double
beds, not suites with king beds.
Obviously, Mame was using the situation to create mischief.
That Mame felt healthy enough to indulge in her usual tricks reassured Alys no
end.
Buzzing with anticipation while waiting for Elliot to work
this out, Alys stroked a tall plant on the suite’s coffee table. “I thought
hotels left chocolates or cookies on pillows, not orchids.”
Elliot was scanning a piece of hotel stationery he’d picked
up off the desk. His explicit curse answered a lot. He popped another Tums and
reread the missive.
Refusing to be deterred, Alys held the plant pot and bounced
on the end of the bed. How did one make an orchid bloom? And what color would
this one be? “I don’t suppose you know if Mame wore an orchid at her wedding?”
“There’s a picture in the photo album of her wearing a huge
one.” Elliot flung the stationery on the bed beside her. His expression was
enigmatic. “I may have to wring her neck.”
Dying of curiosity, Alys handed him the pot. “I don’t know
if the bloom on this one will be huge or not. We ought to buy her a corsage
when we find her.”
“If we don’t find her, we can bring orchids to her funeral.”
He slapped the pot back on the table while Alys picked up the letter.
* * *
Her chuckles as she read Mame’s insane note drove Elliot
crazy. How did she turn off her anxiety and let go like that? He paced up and
down the suite to keep from watching her expressive face too closely. He knew
what it would take to make him forget Mame for a little while, and he didn’t
like knowing that about himself.
He’d stayed in fancier suites, with better views. He’d never
stayed in one with a playful sprite who revved all his motors.
If he wanted to continue following Mame, they’d have to
spend the night here.
He had his credit cards. He could get another room.
He didn’t want to.
Pacing and trying not to analyze that reaction, he watched
Alys read the letter again and chuckle. He didn’t see what was so damned funny.
Mame knew he was here. She had dodged him. On purpose.
“She’s matchmaking!” Alys bounced back against the bland
navy-and-beige cover and giggled.
Elliot didn’t think grown women ought to giggle, but he was
too aware of her slender figure splayed across the enormous bed to be
reasonable. The image of what they could be doing together on that bed fried
his brain. He was tired, worried, and ought to be picturing wringing Mame’s
neck instead of wondering what Alys Seagraves wore—or didn’t wear—beneath her
clingy knits.
Her breasts bobbed freely enough to believe they were
unfettered.
“She says she’s staying with friends,” he pointed out with
irritation. “She wants you to take care of the orchid and make it bloom. She
has some idiot idea that you have a green thumb.” Remembering the heat-blasted
shrubs of Alys’s brown front yard, he thought Mame had gone senile on him.
Hell, one more thing to worry about.
“Her note says you like green tea before bedtime!” Alys
crowed with laughter, waving the paper as if it held the secrets to life.
“Check the drawers to see if she left your favorite jammies.”
Okay, that was pretty funny. Elliot bit back a reluctant
grin. His aunt had her outrageous moments. He could appreciate that. “I quit
wearing jammies after I outgrew the penguin ones.”
Quaking with laughter, she grabbed a pillow and buried her
face in it to stifle her roar. “Penguins!” The pillow muffled her shriek. She
came up to ask, “Did you know that penguins have sex only once a year?” before
burrowing into the pillow and roaring again.
Obviously, his childhood reminiscences contrasted a little
too vividly with his adult identity to send her over the top like that. Did she
think he was the kind of guy who only had sex once a year? He didn’t know
whether to laugh with her or strangle himself. Maybe
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