[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
was like a storm, on her and over her, pounding inside her. She wanted all of him, everything he had to
give,everything he could make her feel. She had been lost for seven years, lost and so alone without him.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Gray's weight came down on her fully, crushing her into the bed; his mouth slanted over hers, and the
concept of loss and loneliness was smothered by the sleek, hot thrust of his tongue. He tasted like salt
and musk and need. He tasted like a passion so extreme her head spun with it. He felt like the sun, hot
and heavy as he sank deep within her, burning her away until she was nothing without him.
*
Leroy was proud of his salon.
True, it was small, and the location was definitely dragged down by the presence of that rat-infested
hotel on the corner, but he had learned to count his blessings. The rat-infested hotel had offered him a
steady income when his trendier clientele tapered off, and he did meet the occasional wealthy eccentric
here.
Take, for example, the man whose hair he was trimming now. He had stumbled across Mr. Soames in
the dark, musty confines of the Royal's private bar, evidently enjoying the rather doubtful ambiance. It
didn't take a genius to know that the man had money, real money. He was nothing to look at; in fact, Mr.
Soames was remarkably nondescript. But he still reeked of quality. His suit was Armani, and not
off-the-rack Armani, either, the tailoring was too perfect. Besides, Leroy had discreetly inspected the
label. His shoes were handmade, his nails manicured, his linen the finest.
Leroy continued trimming the gentleman's hair, wishing all his clients could be so well-dressed, so
well-groomed. Mr. Soames had an air of real class about him. Leroy shuddered delicately as he thought
of the Pacific Royal. His clients there were nothing more than peasants and ruffians. If he didn't need the
money to supplement his income and his upwardly mobile lifestyle, he wouldn't go near the place.
"I hear you do a lot of business with the Pacific Royal."
Leroy jerked, caught off balance by his client asking a question about the very thing he was thinking of
almost as if Mr. Soames had been reading his mind. "Unfortunately, yes," he muttered.
"Then you must cut Samantha Munro's hair," the man said in his light, bland voice.
Leroy's eyes widened at the obvious search for information; then he smiled in satisfaction. Samantha
Munro was a classy lady. She stood out like a diamond amidst dross at the Royal. Perhaps that was
what or should he saywho had drawn Mr. Soames to spend time in the Royal's bar. He probably
assumed that Leroy was Samantha Munro's stylist. He wasn't, but he didn't see that that little point
needed explaining when Mr. Soames was playing such a subtle game. "Sam has gorgeous hair," he
murmured resuming trimming.
"I saw her picture on the front page of this morning's paper.Looks like she's engaged toLombard.A step
up from managing the Royal, I imagine."
Leroy's scissors jerked again at the mention of the cold-eyed barbarian who inhabited the Governor's
Suite. He was more of the opinion that having any kind of association with Lombard was a step down
especially for a lady like Samantha Munro. It was almost inconceivable that Lombard was one ofthe
Lombards and as rich as Croesus. If Leroy had only known that, he would have charged him more for
the haircuts he'd done. He should have had danger money just to step inside that suite. "If the
engagement's real," he said, not bothering to hide his disdain. If Samantha Munro was engaged to
Lombard, he was a horse's ass.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Mr. Soames smiled pleasantly into the mirror, his expression enquiring without being vulgar.
Leroy didn't need further prompting. Something out of the ordinary was going on at the Royal. Samantha
Munro had been whisked away and replaced by a look-alike, and those barbarians in the Governor's
Suite who claimed to be in the telecommunications business were up to something. He wasn't certain
what, but he was only too happy to fill in the gaps with his own inventive guesses.
* [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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was like a storm, on her and over her, pounding inside her. She wanted all of him, everything he had to
give,everything he could make her feel. She had been lost for seven years, lost and so alone without him.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Gray's weight came down on her fully, crushing her into the bed; his mouth slanted over hers, and the
concept of loss and loneliness was smothered by the sleek, hot thrust of his tongue. He tasted like salt
and musk and need. He tasted like a passion so extreme her head spun with it. He felt like the sun, hot
and heavy as he sank deep within her, burning her away until she was nothing without him.
*
Leroy was proud of his salon.
True, it was small, and the location was definitely dragged down by the presence of that rat-infested
hotel on the corner, but he had learned to count his blessings. The rat-infested hotel had offered him a
steady income when his trendier clientele tapered off, and he did meet the occasional wealthy eccentric
here.
Take, for example, the man whose hair he was trimming now. He had stumbled across Mr. Soames in
the dark, musty confines of the Royal's private bar, evidently enjoying the rather doubtful ambiance. It
didn't take a genius to know that the man had money, real money. He was nothing to look at; in fact, Mr.
Soames was remarkably nondescript. But he still reeked of quality. His suit was Armani, and not
off-the-rack Armani, either, the tailoring was too perfect. Besides, Leroy had discreetly inspected the
label. His shoes were handmade, his nails manicured, his linen the finest.
Leroy continued trimming the gentleman's hair, wishing all his clients could be so well-dressed, so
well-groomed. Mr. Soames had an air of real class about him. Leroy shuddered delicately as he thought
of the Pacific Royal. His clients there were nothing more than peasants and ruffians. If he didn't need the
money to supplement his income and his upwardly mobile lifestyle, he wouldn't go near the place.
"I hear you do a lot of business with the Pacific Royal."
Leroy jerked, caught off balance by his client asking a question about the very thing he was thinking of
almost as if Mr. Soames had been reading his mind. "Unfortunately, yes," he muttered.
"Then you must cut Samantha Munro's hair," the man said in his light, bland voice.
Leroy's eyes widened at the obvious search for information; then he smiled in satisfaction. Samantha
Munro was a classy lady. She stood out like a diamond amidst dross at the Royal. Perhaps that was
what or should he saywho had drawn Mr. Soames to spend time in the Royal's bar. He probably
assumed that Leroy was Samantha Munro's stylist. He wasn't, but he didn't see that that little point
needed explaining when Mr. Soames was playing such a subtle game. "Sam has gorgeous hair," he
murmured resuming trimming.
"I saw her picture on the front page of this morning's paper.Looks like she's engaged toLombard.A step
up from managing the Royal, I imagine."
Leroy's scissors jerked again at the mention of the cold-eyed barbarian who inhabited the Governor's
Suite. He was more of the opinion that having any kind of association with Lombard was a step down
especially for a lady like Samantha Munro. It was almost inconceivable that Lombard was one ofthe
Lombards and as rich as Croesus. If Leroy had only known that, he would have charged him more for
the haircuts he'd done. He should have had danger money just to step inside that suite. "If the
engagement's real," he said, not bothering to hide his disdain. If Samantha Munro was engaged to
Lombard, he was a horse's ass.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Mr. Soames smiled pleasantly into the mirror, his expression enquiring without being vulgar.
Leroy didn't need further prompting. Something out of the ordinary was going on at the Royal. Samantha
Munro had been whisked away and replaced by a look-alike, and those barbarians in the Governor's
Suite who claimed to be in the telecommunications business were up to something. He wasn't certain
what, but he was only too happy to fill in the gaps with his own inventive guesses.
* [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]