Double trouble by Barbara Boswell Page B

disappeared without a word the moment I—"
    "Swaggered triumphantly into the bathroom after you'd blithely informed me that the night before was entirely my design," Kayla cut in bitterly. "You couldn't—and wouldn't—be held responsible for anything. Of course I left as quickly as I could. You'd made it obvious that I had fulfilled my function and you were eager to dismiss me."
    Matt stared at her, baffled. "Are we talking about the same day? Lady, I was there and the scene you just described isn't the one I lived. For one thing, I didn't do any 'triumphant swaggering' that morning. I—"
    "Then what would you call that self-satisfied macho strut to the shower? You left me in that bed without a single word or look or—" Her voice was rising and Kayla quickly cut herself off. "I left immediately, as any self-respecting woman would do. And I don't care to discuss it any fur-

    ther," she added in a low, angry whisper. "Now move out of the way and let me pass."
    Matt didn't budge. 'That 'self-satisfied macho strut' to the shower you thought you saw? What you were really seeing was a frantic, mad dash to the John where I was sicker than I've ever been in my life, thanks to those WINDS cretins who spiked my entire fund-raiser. I didn't dare take time to stop and chat, or even to take a look at you, or I'd have embarrassed myself all over the room."
    Kayla stared at him, momentarily nonplussed. "You were sick?"
    "Weren't you?" he countered. "Those maniacs laced everything, including the water, with a hundred-and-twelve-proof vodka. Not only was I acutely ill that morning, I was nauseated for the rest of the weekend."
    "I wasn't sick."
    "Terrific." Matt scowled. "You have the cast-iron constitution of a vodka-swilling cossack, and I get sicker than a callow college freshman after his first fraternity beer blast."
    Kayla almost smiled. She quickly restrained herself. She was not about to fall into swapping morning-after war stories; this was still Matt Minteer she was talking to. Matt "Do you do it often and compare notes afterward?'' Minteer.
    "So that's why you took off without a goodbye," Matt said, preoccupied. "You thought I was an insensitive, thoughtless jerk who didn't have time for you?"
    "Something like that," Kayla said fiercely. "I might not have been physically sick, but I was sick with regret. I know you'll find this impossible to believe, but last Friday night was totally out of character for me. My sister and I do not sleep around."
    "And why would I find that impossible to believe?"
    She was about to give him a hearty shove and stride away, but she couldn't resist throwing his accusation back at him.

    His own words should wipe that phony, perplexed expression from his face.
    It did. But the expression that replaced it was one of indignation. "I wasn't referring to anything sexual! What I meant was—do you and your sister trade places often? Do you step in for each other and then get together to revel in your trickery? A fair question under the circumstances, you'll have to admit."
    "I don't have to admit anything!" This time she tried to stalk off, but Matt grasped her wrist and held fast.
    '*You have to admit this." He gave one fierce tug, dragging her back to him. He wrapped his arms around her and stared down into her wide, startled eyes. *'We were good together. Damn good."
    Kay la began to struggle. '*We were drunk! It was my first and only drunken one-night stand and all I want to do is to forget it ever happened."
    The soft and shapely feel of her body against his, the enticing scent of her perfume, had the same potent effect on him as it had last week. He pulled her even closer, feeling the heat emanating from her into him. Her movements, intended to free herself, inciting him to hold her even tighter as his mind clouded in a haze of dizzying reminiscences.
    ''It was more than that," he said raspily. ''And you can't forget anymore than I can."
    He leaned down to nuzzle the curve of her neck, his big