was not willing to do to fight crime, and marrying Donald topped the list.
"This is great," Alec told Dennie as she mopped off his face in her bathroom. "Nobody's washed my face for me since I was ten."
"Who hit you when you were ten?" Dennie moved his nose cautiously back and forth.
"Ouch! What are you doing?"
"Seeing if it's broken."
He caught her hand and pulled it away. "It's not broken. You didn't hit me hard enough to break it."
"Well, you bled like a stuck pig."
"Noses always bleed like that." He stood up and took off his jacket.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm covered with blood." He unbuttoned his shirt. Really, it was logical. Anybody would take off his clothes if they were covered in blood and wine.
Too bad he hadn't bled on her.
"And what do you think you're going to change into here?" Dennie stood with her hands on her hips, looking at him with disgust which was not the reaction he'd been hoping for. She was exasperating and infuriating and impossible, and he'd never wanted a woman more, especially now that it seemed entirely probable that she wasn't a crook after all. He'd been feeling positively cheerful ever since she'd snarled at Bond.
And the night was not over yet.
He ran cold water in the sink and dropped his shirt in it. "You've got to get blood out fast or it stains. And then there's the wine." He turned off the water. "You know—out, out, damned spot. Now what shall we do while my shirt soaks?"
She folded her arms and looked at him grimly.
No go , he thought. Well, let's lull her into a false sense of security .
"Room service hot fudge sundaes." Alec moved past her to the phone. "We didn't get dessert."
Dennie watched him dial room service and then went back in the bathroom to scrub his shirt and think, leaving the door open so she could hear if he called anybody else. She listened to him order the sundaes, and then she soaped the stains on his shirt and let her mind run on with the idea she'd had in the elevator, the idea that had made her decide that bringing Alec back to the room was a good idea.
Alec was not stupid but he was acting stupid.
Victoria Prentice was not stupid but she was acting dumber than Alec.
They were both fascinated with this Bondman creature who was clearly selling land they weren't going to be able to develop.
Therefore they were up to something. At the moment, Dennie didn't care if it was legal or illegal; all she cared about was that it was a story. And she'd been on the inside of it and blown it by shooting off her big mouth.
The only way she could get back in was by pumping Alec and his aunt. And by talking to Bondman.
She rinsed the shirt again and then wrung it out. The stains were fainter but still there. Alec would have to send it to the cleaners.
But first he'd have to talk with her.
She came out of the bedroom just as the room service arrived, and smiled at Alec while he signed for the desserts.
"This was a great idea," she told him and took one of the sundaes. She sat on the edge of the bed and dipped her spoon into the whipped cream and licked it off, watching him flinch. That was another good thing about Alec: He was easy to turn on. Maybe she should seduce him for the information.
Alec picked up his ice cream and ignored her, stretching out on the bed to watch the old black-and-white TV movie he'd turned on while she'd been in the bathroom. He looked long and lanky, and his chest was broad and lightly furred in the lamplight, and he was infinitely desirable. She felt the room grow warmer and shifted a little on the bed.
Maybe she shouldn't seduce him. She should probably stick with things she could control. She licked hot fudge from her spoon, and Alec watched her again and clenched his teeth. Good. He was still distracted. She swung her legs up on the bed and stretched out. "You're awfully quiet," she told him around her hot fudge. "How's your nose?"
"It hurts," he said, looking pathetic, probably hoping for sympathy.
"Good. Think twice
"This is great," Alec told Dennie as she mopped off his face in her bathroom. "Nobody's washed my face for me since I was ten."
"Who hit you when you were ten?" Dennie moved his nose cautiously back and forth.
"Ouch! What are you doing?"
"Seeing if it's broken."
He caught her hand and pulled it away. "It's not broken. You didn't hit me hard enough to break it."
"Well, you bled like a stuck pig."
"Noses always bleed like that." He stood up and took off his jacket.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm covered with blood." He unbuttoned his shirt. Really, it was logical. Anybody would take off his clothes if they were covered in blood and wine.
Too bad he hadn't bled on her.
"And what do you think you're going to change into here?" Dennie stood with her hands on her hips, looking at him with disgust which was not the reaction he'd been hoping for. She was exasperating and infuriating and impossible, and he'd never wanted a woman more, especially now that it seemed entirely probable that she wasn't a crook after all. He'd been feeling positively cheerful ever since she'd snarled at Bond.
And the night was not over yet.
He ran cold water in the sink and dropped his shirt in it. "You've got to get blood out fast or it stains. And then there's the wine." He turned off the water. "You know—out, out, damned spot. Now what shall we do while my shirt soaks?"
She folded her arms and looked at him grimly.
No go , he thought. Well, let's lull her into a false sense of security .
"Room service hot fudge sundaes." Alec moved past her to the phone. "We didn't get dessert."
Dennie watched him dial room service and then went back in the bathroom to scrub his shirt and think, leaving the door open so she could hear if he called anybody else. She listened to him order the sundaes, and then she soaped the stains on his shirt and let her mind run on with the idea she'd had in the elevator, the idea that had made her decide that bringing Alec back to the room was a good idea.
Alec was not stupid but he was acting stupid.
Victoria Prentice was not stupid but she was acting dumber than Alec.
They were both fascinated with this Bondman creature who was clearly selling land they weren't going to be able to develop.
Therefore they were up to something. At the moment, Dennie didn't care if it was legal or illegal; all she cared about was that it was a story. And she'd been on the inside of it and blown it by shooting off her big mouth.
The only way she could get back in was by pumping Alec and his aunt. And by talking to Bondman.
She rinsed the shirt again and then wrung it out. The stains were fainter but still there. Alec would have to send it to the cleaners.
But first he'd have to talk with her.
She came out of the bedroom just as the room service arrived, and smiled at Alec while he signed for the desserts.
"This was a great idea," she told him and took one of the sundaes. She sat on the edge of the bed and dipped her spoon into the whipped cream and licked it off, watching him flinch. That was another good thing about Alec: He was easy to turn on. Maybe she should seduce him for the information.
Alec picked up his ice cream and ignored her, stretching out on the bed to watch the old black-and-white TV movie he'd turned on while she'd been in the bathroom. He looked long and lanky, and his chest was broad and lightly furred in the lamplight, and he was infinitely desirable. She felt the room grow warmer and shifted a little on the bed.
Maybe she shouldn't seduce him. She should probably stick with things she could control. She licked hot fudge from her spoon, and Alec watched her again and clenched his teeth. Good. He was still distracted. She swung her legs up on the bed and stretched out. "You're awfully quiet," she told him around her hot fudge. "How's your nose?"
"It hurts," he said, looking pathetic, probably hoping for sympathy.
"Good. Think twice
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