Elaine Viets & Victoria Laurie, Nancy Martin, Denise Swanson - Drop-Dead Blonde (v5.0) (pdf) by Unknown (howl and other poems .TXT) 📕

208 DEAD BLONDES TELL NO TALES 209 Xavier didn't come over to see if Frannie was okay.'' Xa- vier was Frannie's father and worked for Simon as em- balmer and assistant funeral director. ``Did you call him and let him know she was safe?''

``He was in Kankakee. Tuesday nights are his martial-arts classes. I don't think he gets home until midnight or so.''

``Oh.'' As Skye entered her cottage foyer, a big black cat appeared and began rubbing against her ankles. She picked him up and scratched under his chin. ``What's wrong, Bingo? Are you a hungry kitty?'' The feline purred louder and wiggled out of her embrace.

Simon leaned down to pet him. ``What's up, fella? Can't take all this attention?''

Turning to Simon, Skye put phase two of her plan into action--keep Simon occupied while she fixed herself up. ``Could you take care of Bingo for me while I take a quick shower? Give him one can of Fancy Feast, fresh water, and sift his litter box.''

Skye fled into her bedroom while Simon was still nodding his agreement. Fifteen minutes later, she was clean--smell- ing of Chanel No. 5 rather than sweat--her hair had been tamed into a French braid, and she was dressed in a jade- green satin chemise and matching kimono.

She was now ready for phase three--seduction. She walked out of her bedroom and purred, ``Simon, darling, I'm ready.''

There was no response. Where was he? She moved far- ther into the great room. Simon was sprawled on the couch. He had taken off his suit jacket, tie, shoes, and socks; rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and untucked it; and apparently started to read the paper before exhaustion had won. He was fast asleep.

Skye sighed, draped an afghan over him, and went into the kitchen for a midnight snack. If she couldn't have one treat, she'd have to settle for another kind.

Mmm. What did she feel like? Something soothing. She opened the freezer door. Ah, just the thing, chocolate ice cream with marshmallow-fluff topping--one or two scoops?

She stood with the spoon poised over the carton, lis- tening to her good angel argue with her bad one about portion size, when a husky voice murmured, ``Got enough to share?'' Simon leaned against the archway separating the 210 Denise Swanson great room from the kitchen. He had shed his shirt, and his muscular chest glowed with a bronze sheen.

The underlying sensuality of his words made her tremble.

He moved toward her and wrapped her in his arms, then whispered into her hair, ``You weren't really planning to let me sleep on the couch all night, were you?''

She put her arms around his neck and inhaled his scent. ``I thought maybe you needed the rest.''

Simon tightened his embrace, molding her soft curves to the contours of his lean body. ``Do I seem tired to you?'' His mouth covered hers hungrily.

Parting her lips, she raised herself to meet his kiss, and she heard him groan deep his throat.

His hand slid up the silky fabric of her nightgown until it found her breast. His stroking fingers sent pleasant jolts through Skye. Simon's lips left hers and seared a path from her earlobe to her bare shoulder.

Her breathing was uneven, and she managed to gasp only one word: ``Bedroom?''

He freed one arm and snagged the carton of ice cream from the counter.

Skye thought he would put it back into the freezer so it wouldn't melt, but he said, ``Let's take this with us.''

She wondered what he had in mind, shivering at the possibilities.

Skye stretched and yawned before turning to look at the clock radio. Shit! It was already after eight. Why hadn't Simon woken her? He was always up by six, no matter how late he got to sleep.

She was supposed to be at her mother's by nine to ac- company May to the hospital. She had finally convinced her mom to get a mammogram, and she wasn't letting May weasel out of it.

Throwing off the covers, she leaped out of bed, then glanced back, looking for her robe. Simon was still fast asleep, a satisfied smile on his handsome face. She kissed him lightly on the lips and headed for the bathroom.

A half hour later, she was dressed in navy wool slacks and baby blue twinset. Simon had finally woken up and was showering. While he got ready, she gulped down a cup of tea and a piece of toast. DEAD BLONDES TELL NO TALES 211

By the time she went back to the bedroom for her shoes he was zipping his pants.

He kissed her and said, ``I need to leave some things over here. I hate putting on dirty clothes the next morning.''

Skye froze. Leaving clothes at each other's places was getting perilously close to moving in together, and she was not ready for that. Was she? She murmured something non- committal, then said, ``Sorry to rush you, but I've got to be at Mom's in ten minutes, and if I'm late she'll chicken out.''

``No problem, let's go.'' As they got into the car he said, ``I'm going to do some investigating this morning about Ruby. Give me a call when you get back, and I'll let you know what I find out.''

``I should be back by noon and at the bowling alley by one. Don't forget tonight is karaoke, and I expect you to sing to me.''

``That's about as likely to happen as my finding out that Ruby is working for the CIA.'' Chapter 9

I Know Why the Caged

Blonde Sings Skye had discovered one of life's little truths: A karaoke machine brought out every bad singer within a thirty-mile radius, and they were all intent on being first to demon- strate why they shouldn't even consider packing