G'Day to Die: A Passport to Peril Mystery - By Maddy Hunter Page 0,61
spine. His skin was warm and moist. His body hard. His mouth deliciously hot.
“Amore, amore,” he rasped.
I felt suddenly unbalanced. The arches of my feet tingled. Light danced behind my eyelids. I was either having an orgasm or a stroke. My hearing grew muffled. My fingers went numb. My bones turned to san—
My shoulder bag crashed to the floor.
“Figlio di puttana!” Etienne hopped backward, holding his foot.
“I’m sorry! It slipped!”
He fell against the wall, mustering a smile as he rubbed his foot. “No harm, bella. I don’t use my left foot that much anyway.”
“I’m sorry. Really. Are you okay?” I smoothed my hand over his ankle.
“I’m sure I’ll be fine once the bones mend.”
“Nooo. Seriously, do you think you broke something?”
“Every bone in my foot.” He wiggled his toes. “Do you know the best treatment for a man who has broken every bone in his foot?”
“Air cast?”
“Bed rest.” He gave my lips a hungry look. “With round-the-clock nursing care.”
Oh, my God. I hadn’t played nurse since I was nine, and I’d never played with a patient who had movable or expanding body parts. Hoochimama! I glanced down the narrow hall toward the living room. “What about Duncan?”
He cupped his hands around my face. “He’s swimming laps. Something about working his frustration off. But I have a better method.” He drew my bottom lip into his mouth, and as he kissed me, stutter-stepped me around the corner into the first bedroom. He backed me onto the edge of the bed and followed me down onto the mattress. “Fammi l’amore, bella.”
“What?”
“Make love to me.”
“Right now?”
“I’m dressed for the occasion.”
“Yeah, but—”
“But what?” He made a slow, sensuous foray into my ear with his tongue.
“Yeah, but—” Oh, God. “Okay.”
“What?”
“I said, okay.”
He boosted himself onto an elbow. “You’re sure? You’re absolutely sure? You don’t need more time to—”
I pulled his head down to mine. “Shut up and kiss me.”
His mouth came down hard on mine. His breathing quickened. His hands were everywhere. Off came my top. Off came my walking shorts. I hoped I didn’t have holes in my underwear. This was it. This was really it!
He boosted himself up again, his breath ragged. “I need—We need—You know. In my shaving kit.” He crawled off the bed.
I reached for his towel and gave it a playful yank. “You won’t be needing this anymore, will you?”
He turned to face me.
JESUS, MARY, AND JOSEPH! HOLY MOTHER OF GOD!
Scalding warmth swept up my throat. Struck dumb, I stared in wonder.
“I hope this means you’re not disappointed. Don’t move. I’ll only be a second.”
I fell back into the pillows. Disappointed? Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Holy Mother of God. I stared at the ceiling, eyes wide and mouth agape.
The hall door clicked open. “Hey, Miceli, you left your purse in the hall. You want it?”
Duncan? Eh! I shot under the covers like Alice down the rabbit hole. I heard footsteps, then—
“Say, Em, a guy at the pool told me about a great restaurant where they do a killer roast squab with parsley ravioli in truffle-scented sauce. Sound good to you? I could be ready to go in twenty minutes. Will that give you enough time to get ready?”
I snaked my hand out through the covers and flashed a thumbs-up.
“Good. I’m psyched. Where’s Miceli?”
I aimed my finger at the inner wall.
“Bathroom? Hey, Miceli!” He pounded once on the wall. “Make it quick! I’ve gotta shower! And, Em, this restaurant apparently makes a passionfruit tart that’ll knock your socks off.”
I poked my head out just enough to send Duncan a withering glare.
“What? You’re not a big fan of passionfruit?” He braced his shoulder against the doorjamb and smiled innocently. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”
Chapter 14
At 7:16 the next morning, I was still waiting for the computer to finish downloading the Google Earth database.
“Sorry it’s takin’ so long, dear,” Nana apologized when she got back from breakfast, “but maybe it’ll be done by the time we get back this evenin’. And to think that when modems first come out, we thought they was so fast.”
“What if tonight isn’t soon enough?” I fretted. “What happens if the killer strikes again before we have our answer? Wouldn’t we have a much better time today if we knew there was no killer? Or if the killer had been taken into custody?” Hmm. “How was breakfast? Anything noteworthy to report? Runny eggs? Limp bacon? Unexpected police activity?”
“The group was blissfully subdued this morning,” said Tilly. “Jake and Lola sat by themselves, staring out the window. Diana