Nerd Gone Wild by Vicki Lewis Thompson Page A

the dim light of the lobby. He didn’t look over toward the entryway, just in case Betsy and Clyde had left items of clothing scattered around. Or in case Betsy had left Clyde lying there, his weenie waving in the breeze. She was one tough lady.
    “We probably don’t have to worry that they’ll hear us,” Ally said. “And even if they did, I doubt Betsy would have the energy to come out and investigate.” Ally started up the stairs. “I certainly wouldn’t.”
    Mitch wished she hadn’t said that. Now he wanted to know if she’d ever had multiple orgasms. It seemed to be the order of the day in Alaska. Lurleen had left Rudy because he couldn’t provide them, and Betsy seemed to accept them as her due.
    In Mitch’s experience, multiple orgasms were a cooperative deal. The guy had to have some skill and staying power, but the woman had to be open to the idea. The combination had only worked out a couple of times for Mitch. Although the sex in each case had been great, he’d had nothing in common with either woman besides this particular achievement. Nice as it had been, it hadn’t been enough to make him want to hang around.
    All that had taken place pre-Madeline Jarrett. Since Madeline had hired him, he’d been too involved with the job and its heavy responsibilities to have time for women. And the heaviest of his responsibilities, despite her gorgeous little figure, was climbing the stairs ahead of him for the second time tonight. And he wanted her more than ever.

    * * *

    Ally opened the door to her room and walked in, leaving the door ajar for Mitchell. For good or bad, they’d just shared something that few people ever did. She felt a kinship with him.
    She’d also be willing to jump his bones, but she didn’t trust that feeling. She might have been willing to jump any guy after the boinkathon they’d been privy to. So she’d concentrate on food, instead. Maybe that would take the edge off.
    “I’ll make the sandwiches,” she said.
    “I could make the sandwiches.”
    “I know, but making the sandwiches seems like an integral part of the refrigerator raid, so I’ll do it.”
    He glanced at her. “Do you know how?”
    She put her pile of food on the dresser and turned to him. “I may be filthy rich, but I’m not totally incompetent.”
    “Sorority living,” he guessed.
    “Exactly.” She went into the bathroom, grabbed a hand towel and spread it on the dresser. Then she took out bread and started in on the sandwiches.
    Mitchell sat on the edge of her unmade bed and picked up the book lying there. “Tanya Mandell. I’ve heard of her.”
    “She’s only the best wildlife photographer in the world, in my opinion.”
    “I never could understand how they get some of these shots, like this one of the bear on its hind legs, without being—”
    “Noticed?” She arranged slices of meat on each sandwich.
    “I was thinking
mauled
.”
    “You learn those things. That’s what I’m here for.”
    Mitch closed the book with a shudder. “Let’s talk about refrigerator raids, instead. Didn’t you ever swipe food from the kitchen when you were a sorority girl?”
    “The truth is, I never got past the pledge stage.”
    “Why not?”
    “Oh, one afternoon I overheard a couple of seniors talking about me.” She tried to sound as if it didn’t matter, but thinking of the conversation still hurt. “One said, ‘Thank God she’s not a real pain,’ and the other one said, ‘I know. Because we’d have to keep her, regardless, after all the money her grandmother gave us.’ See, I hadn’t known about any money changing hands.”
    “So you de-pledged.”
    “Uh-huh. You should have seen how hard they tried to talk me out of it, too. I should have made those girls clean the sorority kitchen floor with their tongues.” She used the carving knife Mitchell had brought up to cut slices off the wedge of cheese and put them on the sandwiches.
    “I wish you had.”
    “Actually, I was determined to hit