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  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 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 before you annoy me again.”

  “You’re a bully.” He scooped up some fudge and ice cream from his own sundae.

  She watched him wince again as he ate. Maybe that wasn’t from lust. Maybe it was from his almost-broken nose. “I am sorry if it really still hurts.”

  “How sorry are you?” He leered and wiggled his eyebrows.

  “Not that sorry.”

  He laughed. “I like you, Dennie Banks. You’re my kind of woman.”

  “Me and every other woman you meet,” she sniffed, but she felt a little sizzle go up her spine, just the same. Back to work, Banks. “Speaking of people you’ve met, where did you find Bondman?”

  “My aunt found him,” Alec said, his eyes back on the screen. “Actually, the guy she’s dating found him, and then the relationship spread.”

  “Do you really believe what he says?” Dennie asked, trying to keep the scorn out of her voice.

  “Do I think Washington is corrupt? Hell, yes.” Alec gestured at the screen. “They don’t make them like this anymore.”

  Dennie squinted at the TV. A guy in a white lab coat was talking to three other guys in suits, and they were all frowning with concern. “That’s because they made ten million of them back then. Monster picture, right?”

  “Do not trash an entire genre,” Alec said. “Monster movies have a long and honorable history.” A close-up of the guy in the lab coat showed him still looking disturbed. Evidently he had only one facial expression. “Of course, this probably isn’t one of the better examples,” Alec said finally. “But still …”

  Dennie put her half-finished sundae on the bedside table between them and leaned forward to see the screen better. “Is that Peter Cushing?”

  “Very good,” Alec said, and swapped his empty sundae glass for her half-full one.

  “Hey,” Dennie said, and Alec moved over to sit beside her on the bed, shoving her over with his hip.

  “You snooze, you lose.” Alec spooned up some more hot fudge. “You can still have some. Your spoon’s still in the dish.”

  It wasn’t the lack of a spoon that was causing Dennie problems, it was Alec’s proximity. The warmth from his kiss at the door last night came back, multiplied by how sweet he’d been kissing her in the lobby before dinner and bolstered by the fact that he was in the middle of a great story she wanted. He leaned next to her, half naked, warm wherever his body touched hers, and she vividly regretted giving up men. Actually, she’d had no trouble giving up other men, but giving up Alec, even though she’d never had him, that was a shame.

  “Did I ever tell you my fantasy about whipped cream?” Alec asked her as he ate the last of hers.

  Dennie’s pulse kicked up at the thought. “If I had any interest in your fantasies, they wouldn’t be fantasies,” she said as coldly as she could while her entire body heated.

  “That’s harsh.”

  “Fran Lebowitz said it first.”

  “Good for her. Can we get back to my fantasy now?”

  “No.” Dennie dipped her spoon in the hot fudge and licked it, which made her think of other things, which was bad. Change of subject. “What is this movie?”

  “Island of Terror. Science fiction from the sixties. A classic.”

  “You’re kidding.” Something moved on the TV screen, and Dennie gaped. “What is that?”

  Alec stretched to put the sundae dish down and on the way back he just happened to put his arm around her. Before she could say anything, he said, “That’s the alien life-form on the island. Haven’t you been watching?”

  Dennie leaned forward to see better and to keep herself from jumping him. “It looks like a big turtle.”

  “Their special effects budget must have been small,” Alec said charitably.

  Dennie looked skeptical. “That’s a special effect?”

  “For this movie, that’s a special effect. Now lean back and pay attention.” He tightened his hold on her, and she leaned back into him. This is a mistake, she thought, but if it was, it was at least going to be a mistake that felt great. “This is where the movie gets scary, and the aliens attack,” Alec went on. “You better hold on to me. Girls get scared easier than guys.”

  Dozens of turtles moved slowly across the beach, and Dennie began to laugh. The turtles were ridiculous, and Alec’s arm was solid and warm. Life was suddenly getting better.

  He held her close. “Hysterical from terror, huh?” He kissed her on the top of her head, and she thought dangerous thoughts.

  Remember the job, she told herself, and tilted her head back and smiled at him. “I’m still mad at you, but since I’m quite sure you’re going to set me up for breakfast tomorrow with your aunt, I might forgive you.”

  Alec looked disappointed but he coped. “Anything you want. Now pay attention to the movie.” He tightened his arm around her some more. “Hey, do I know how to show a girl a good time or what? We’ll have to come here often.”

  “I don’t know.” She shook her head, and her curls brushed his bare skin and made them both shiver. “This movie will be a tough one to top.”

  “Nonsense,” Alec said, his voice cracking a little. “Ther