. The intercom buzzed. Ryan irritably punched down the call button."Yes?" Mr. Ryan," his secretary's voice came through, high and nasal. "There's a Mr... Hammer here, and a... a Miss De La Court. They don't have an appointment, but they'd like to see you."Ryan frowned. He hated his secretary's voice. In fact, he hated her. She had been his wife's choice, a scrawny, book-nosed old battle-axe. He could tell from the slight disapproval in her voice before she had said "Miss De La Court," that Miss. . blood? Then she kissed him fully and drove all thoughts from his head.She stepped back, nearly – but not quite – hitting the bed, and waved a hand in his direction."Are you going to stand there all night like a clothes tree, or are you going find something to do with those?"Frowning, he looked down to see what she was pointing at. With a start, he realized that he was still clutching their discarded clothing in his hands! He'd forgotten all about it in the heat of the moment and his. More

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