Page 50 of The Perils of Paulie
“Did you hear the— Oh!” Melody stood at the door in street clothes, her eyes widening when she saw Dixon. “Sorry. I didn’t know you were occupied.”
I sighed. “It’s OK. We just entertained Roger and the camera crew. I assume you’re going to ask me if I heard about Louise? The answer is yes, I have. Roger filmed me getting the news.”
“I see.” Her gaze flickered to Dixon for a moment before she said apologetically, “We can talk about it later. Sorry to disturb you.”
She pulled the door closed. I eyed it for a moment. “Who else is left to disturb us? Your brother?”
“No, he was with us in the hallway.”
“Right.” I turned around and leaned against the door in as seductive a pose as possible. “Then I think we’re safe.”
“We may be alone,” he said with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows, “but I don’t know how safe you are. At least, not where it concerns my desires.”
“Oooh,” I said, shimmying forward until I was once again pressed up against him. The thin lawn of thecamisole did nothing to diminish the sensation of his chest rubbing against my breasts. “Are we going to role-play? I’ve never done it, but always wanted to.”
“We can if—” He stopped and we both stared at the door.
“Really, this is getting too much,” I complained, and handed Dixon his towel before going to the door. I opened it just enough to glare through it and said tersely, “What the hell do you want?”
The bald-headed man named Anton stood there, a mildly pleasant smile on his face. “It occurred to me that we got off to a bad start, and since we are likely to see each other daily, it would be best for me to introduce myself and correct any misimpression you have.”
“Busy now,” I said, and slammed the door. My conscience pricked enough to make me open it up and add, “Sorry. It’s a bad time. Later I’m going to want to have a long talk with you, especially about any contacts you have in Russia.”
He blinked at me.
I gave him a pointed look, then closed the door again.
Dixon’s lips were thinned, his expression annoyed in a way that made me want to giggle. He strode to the door, took up theDO NOT DISTURBsign, and opened the door to hang it on the handle. Standing in the middle of the hallway, looking in the other direction, was Anton. His eyebrows rose at the sight of Dixon.
“Ainslie,” he said with a little nod of acknowledgment.
“Serik,” Dixon answered, and, without saying anything more, closed the door, locking it, and putting the chain on for good measure. “Do you ever have the feeling the fates are against you?”
“I hadn’t before this, but I’m now mentally running down a list of everyone in the cast and crew and figuring out who’s likely to come knocking at my door next. Maybe we should hurry.”
He sighed and, to my intense sadness, pulled on his pants. “I don’t want to hurry. I want to take my time exploring every delicious inch of you.”
“Then why are you leaving?” I asked, watching unhappily as he put on his shoes and slipped into the shirt, leaving it unbuttoned while he gathered the rest of his things. “You can’t explore if I’m not in the same room, and I wanted to do a little wandering around your landscape, too.”
“Someone, somehow, will interrupt us again, and as I said, I don’t want to be rushed.” He opened the door and looked back at me. “Two hours. My room. Don’t tell anyone where you’re going. Bring ice.”
“Ice? Why?”
He was gone, the door closing quietly behind him, leaving me to tell my lady parts to cool their jets for a couple of hours, and to ponder just exactly how he intended on using the ice.
JOURNAL OF DIXON AINSLEY
26 July
11:40 p.m.
Salt Lake City, Utah
I’ve been neglectful in recording the events of the journey. To be honest, I considered giving up the whole journaling project, but Paulie urged me to continue, saying she was having fun with her own journal and that it gets easier with practice.
I asked her if she was recording conversations. “It seems I have a knack for remembering them, and it makes for more interesting reading than ‘I asked this and so-and-so answered that,’ so I make sure to include as much dialogue as I can recall.”
“I do that, too, although sometimes I have to sit and think about what people said. And of course, I write about us.”
