15
“You must do something about your bed.” Though Tanya couldn’t imagine why she was complaining, she felt incredibly limber this morning.
She sat on the bathroom counter, drying her hair as well as she could with a couple of kitchen towels, and watched Alex drying himself off with a stack of paper napkins bearing a pizzeria’s logo. He was a very pretty lover as well as being a very creative one.
They’d made use of the kitchen floor, had something of a wrestling match on the carpeted stairs that had ended with two victors, and finally shoved around enough boxes to get the mattress flopped down upstairs.
They’d prowled through boxes of Russian literature, dog care books, and action-adventure thriller novels. The well-thumbed Secret Service training manuals told her just how seriously he
