Turn Left at Sanity, page 28
“You should have asked who it was before opening the door,” he snarled.
“I looked out the bedroom window,” she said on a yawn. “I could see you.” Almost as though his sharp advice to be cautious had the opposite effect, she straightened and opened the door fully.
He’d checked her out, the way a single man in his prime always checks women out. He’d sensed
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a very nice body was packaged in the trendy clothes she wore. But he’d had no idea.
She wasn’t a tall woman, but she was exquis-ite. She wore teeny-tiny girl boxer shorts with the Union Jack stamped all over them and a little white T-shirt with Rule Britannia printed across the chest. Her legs were shapely, her breasts small and perfect. Even the tiny strip of skin between the end of her shirt and the beginning of the shorts fascinated him. So white, so smooth.
His gaze returned to her eyes and he found them fully awake now regarding him with a certain amused speculation. Damn it, she’d knocked him on his ass and she knew it.
“Don’t tell me, your bra has the queen on one cup and Prince Charles on the other.”
She glanced down at her outfit as though she’d forgotten what she was wearing. “A going away present from a friend.”
The sun was against his back, already warm.
To his right he heard a bee sounding like it was snoring in the Texas lilac bush he’d planted last year.
“Did you come over to check that my pajamas are patriotic?” she asked.
He realized he was staring and felt stupid which annoyed him even more. “I came to deliver some mail which came to me by mistake.”
He held out the envelope.
“Thank you.” She put out her hand but he didn’t relinquish the envelope.
“What’s going on, Chloe?”
Her eyebrows rose in an incredibly snooty fashion, as though she might call her palace guards to come and have him shot. “I beg your pardon?”
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“Somebody stuffs a thousand bucks in cash in my mail slot in the middle of the night, it makes me curious.”
“A thousand dollars?” she exclaimed, sounding delighted. “He must have added a tip. How sweet.”
For an instant he was distracted by the thought of what her services were and what she’d done to deserve such a big tip.
A jovial male voice called out, “Mornin’ Matt, ma’am.” Chloe’s hand waved in greeting and he turned to see Chuck Dawson and most of his car pool waving as his van drove by. He moved his body to block Chloe from view, though he wondered why he bothered, since she didn’t seem at all worried about waving her flag to whoever went by.
“Maybe we could discuss this inside,” he said.
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Copyright © 2005 by Nancy Warren All rights reserved. No part of this book may be re-produced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
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ISBN: 0-7582-3099-0
Document Outline
Cover Page
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Copyright Page
Nancy Warren, Turn Left at Sanity
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