feel free to move about the room for the next twenty minutes and peruse these displays. When order is restored I'll try to answer any questions you have."
Carlo scowled as he leaned against the near wall and, like a hawk, surveyed everyone in his sight.
Ignoring him, Allison strolled about, answering questions and sharing experiences about her work.
When the hostess called time, Allison answered one more question and acknowledged another generous round of applause.
While the audience filed out she stacked the last of her scrapbooks on the Event Cart and thanked the hotel staff for their help.
"Would you like a ladies’ room break between workshops?" Carlo asked, his voice deep. "I intend to stand right outside the door if you do."
"I'd like to go to my room instead."
"What about the next workshop you planned to attend?" he asked, glancing at her schedule on his cell phone.
"I'm beat. I've decide to skip it. I want to lose these shoes and slip into something more comfortable. Maybe relax in the Jacuzzi. Better yet, the Fitness Room."
"Doesn't sound relaxing to me."
"It does to me. For now, I need a chance to burn off this excess energy before I burst. If I wasn't convinced you'd throw a tantrum, I'd ask you to go jogging with me."
"I do not throw tantrums," Carlo said, his jaw tight.
"But you will escort me to the Fitness Room? A half-hour on a stationary bicycle and one on a treadmill should cure me of this blue funk I feel myself slipping into." Knowing her eyes twinkled in anticipation, she smiled at him.
"You win. Stand still long enough for me to text the rest of the team about our change of plans."
A darling pair of red boots paraded by. Allison turned her head and followed the owner's progress. When the owner grinned smugly, Allison gave her a thumbs-up.
Carlo possessively took hold of her arm again. "Done. We're off the clock, so get a move on."
He quickly escorted her to the fifth floor, and let her into her room.
"Are you ever going to allow housekeeping to make our beds?" she asked.
"No, but I'll ask housekeeping to bring clean towels when you run out."
"Good idea. I expect to be sweaty when we come back to the room."
"Consider it done. Knock on the connecting door when you're ready to work up a sweat."
He waved bye, left her staring at his broad back, and closed and locked the connecting door.
Okay. Privacy while I change is good. Right?
She quickly shed her wrap-around dress knit with five-percent spandex and the shoes Carlo hadn't been able to stop admiring, and slipped into her new sports bra and matching shorts. A head band and gym shoes completed her ensemble and in what she considered record time she grabbed the matching tunic and knocked on the connecting door.
The door opened wide. She swallowed, stunned by the six-feet of buff male Carlo's muscle shirt and track shorts revealed.
His appreciative gaze skated across every inch of her uncovered flesh before slowly returning to her face, his face flushed and his Adam's apple bobbing.
Is he about to have a heart attack?
"Yes, I'm ready, but if that garment you're holding isn't a cover-up, I'm not sure I'll be able to walk to the elevator with you."
"It is," she said with an impish grin and reluctantly donned the tunic.
He moistened his lips and grabbed two bath towels. "We're heading to the Fitness Room," he said into his radio, set it on the desk, and led her out into the hall.
"Where to?" he asked, his words strained.
"The fourth floor. Across the Skywalk from the Food Court."
"The west elevator should be closer," he said, turning west at the end of the hall. "Or we could take the stairs?"
"No need, we're just a few steps from the elevator closest to the Fitness Room."
She and Carlo rode down the one floor in silence and stepped out into a chest-high concrete maze she'd admired from the lobby till now.
Four walled-in concrete Skywalks came together in the center of an open loft area four stories high, giving her an
Carlo scowled as he leaned against the near wall and, like a hawk, surveyed everyone in his sight.
Ignoring him, Allison strolled about, answering questions and sharing experiences about her work.
When the hostess called time, Allison answered one more question and acknowledged another generous round of applause.
While the audience filed out she stacked the last of her scrapbooks on the Event Cart and thanked the hotel staff for their help.
"Would you like a ladies’ room break between workshops?" Carlo asked, his voice deep. "I intend to stand right outside the door if you do."
"I'd like to go to my room instead."
"What about the next workshop you planned to attend?" he asked, glancing at her schedule on his cell phone.
"I'm beat. I've decide to skip it. I want to lose these shoes and slip into something more comfortable. Maybe relax in the Jacuzzi. Better yet, the Fitness Room."
"Doesn't sound relaxing to me."
"It does to me. For now, I need a chance to burn off this excess energy before I burst. If I wasn't convinced you'd throw a tantrum, I'd ask you to go jogging with me."
"I do not throw tantrums," Carlo said, his jaw tight.
"But you will escort me to the Fitness Room? A half-hour on a stationary bicycle and one on a treadmill should cure me of this blue funk I feel myself slipping into." Knowing her eyes twinkled in anticipation, she smiled at him.
"You win. Stand still long enough for me to text the rest of the team about our change of plans."
A darling pair of red boots paraded by. Allison turned her head and followed the owner's progress. When the owner grinned smugly, Allison gave her a thumbs-up.
Carlo possessively took hold of her arm again. "Done. We're off the clock, so get a move on."
He quickly escorted her to the fifth floor, and let her into her room.
"Are you ever going to allow housekeeping to make our beds?" she asked.
"No, but I'll ask housekeeping to bring clean towels when you run out."
"Good idea. I expect to be sweaty when we come back to the room."
"Consider it done. Knock on the connecting door when you're ready to work up a sweat."
He waved bye, left her staring at his broad back, and closed and locked the connecting door.
Okay. Privacy while I change is good. Right?
She quickly shed her wrap-around dress knit with five-percent spandex and the shoes Carlo hadn't been able to stop admiring, and slipped into her new sports bra and matching shorts. A head band and gym shoes completed her ensemble and in what she considered record time she grabbed the matching tunic and knocked on the connecting door.
The door opened wide. She swallowed, stunned by the six-feet of buff male Carlo's muscle shirt and track shorts revealed.
His appreciative gaze skated across every inch of her uncovered flesh before slowly returning to her face, his face flushed and his Adam's apple bobbing.
Is he about to have a heart attack?
"Yes, I'm ready, but if that garment you're holding isn't a cover-up, I'm not sure I'll be able to walk to the elevator with you."
"It is," she said with an impish grin and reluctantly donned the tunic.
He moistened his lips and grabbed two bath towels. "We're heading to the Fitness Room," he said into his radio, set it on the desk, and led her out into the hall.
"Where to?" he asked, his words strained.
"The fourth floor. Across the Skywalk from the Food Court."
"The west elevator should be closer," he said, turning west at the end of the hall. "Or we could take the stairs?"
"No need, we're just a few steps from the elevator closest to the Fitness Room."
She and Carlo rode down the one floor in silence and stepped out into a chest-high concrete maze she'd admired from the lobby till now.
Four walled-in concrete Skywalks came together in the center of an open loft area four stories high, giving her an
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