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heat and surging womanhood all dolled up in a body like that of a French
movie star. She was as wanton as a Polynesian dancer and as demanding as
a nympho. Lying there beside her relaxed nakedness, Nick Danson felt
like another man - a tired one.
He laid his hand over the swelling rise of her breast and slid it down
the flat velvet of her stomach. She made a small sound in her throat and
kissed him on the cheek with lips like branding irons.
"I'm glad you have amnesia," she cooed against his ear.
"Why, for God's sake?"
She snuggled the curling warmth of her body against him and chuckled.
"Because of this. You used to kiss me, but that was all. I wanted more,
but not you."
He blinked at the ceiling at her words. She'd tricked him! It was a nice
trick, but still she'd cheated. All the time he'd figured that she was
some sort of mistress, or something - obviously that's what _she_ had
wanted, but in his other life he'd never given her a tumble. It was
funny, in a way.
"You mean ... we never..."
"Nope." She chuckled again. "Aren't I a rat?"
"Vixen, is more like it."
"That's a good word. I like it. Janet Vixen. How would you like to kiss
Janet Vixen, Nick Danson?"
"Suppose I get another knock on the head," he suggested, "and I lose the
memory of all this, too? Then what?"
"I won't embarrass you in front of company. C'mon, kiss me again,
He rolled over and kissed her again and, tired or not, he could feel the
desire surging through him again. Her small hands moved over the muscles
of his shoulders, digging into his flesh, her teeth nibbling at his
neck. Janet was one of those odd women who can't seem to take a darned
thing serious. No matter what the risks were involved, to her making
wild love was a hell of a lot of fun and that was that. He had the hunch
that if he tried to get serious with her - marriage serious - she'd
bounce him fast. But hell, it was impossible to think of things like
that with her, besides he was having too much fun. If, he thought later,
you can call it fun when you're so weak you can't move.
"I have to go, lover," she said finally. "Beth might come up, and I
think she would be apt to get a little put out if she caught us in bed."
"That's putting it mildly," he grinned. "Besides, I have to start trying
to find out about myself."
"Do me a favor and don't." She pecked him lightly on the lips. "I like
the new Nick Danson a hell of a lot better. C'mon. Snap my bra."
They climbed out of bed and he helped her into her shorts and halter.
She kissed him lightly again, said; "Good-by, lover," and bounced out
into the hall, leaving him standing there, naked in the bedroom.
What a world, he thought for the hundredth time and began to gather his
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