"Woods, Stuart - Imperfect Strangers" - читать интересную книгу автора (Woods Stuart)

back, naked, and blinked a couple of times..
he turned to his right and moved toward the woman
next to him. He shaped himself to her back and pressed
his groin against her soft buttocks, and he felt the stirring
come.
She gave a soft moan and responded, pushing against
him. In a moment she was wet, and he entered her, moving
slowly, enjoying the early morning moment.
The phone rang, the loud, insistent jangling that only
an older British phone could make. He cursed under his
breath and, without stopping the motion, reached
across her and lifted the receiver.




"Hello?" he said hoarsely.
"It's Joan." She waited for him to respond.
He still did not stop moving. "Yes," he said, finally,
then he became more alert. "What time is it in New
York?"
"Nearly two A.M."
"What's wrong?"
"Daddy has had a stroke."
He stopped moving, wilting like.a violet in hot sun.
"How bad?"
"They don't know, yet, but at his age---"
Jock Bailley was ninety-one. I'll get myself on a
flight as soon as the office opens. Where is he?"
"Lenox Hill. I'm calling from there."
I'll let the New York office know what flight I'm
on."
"Albert will meet you."
"You all right?"
"Tired.'
"You'd better go home and sleep. There's nothing
you can do there."
"I suppose you're right. Laddie and Betty are here,
anyway."
"You should all go home and sleep."
"I will; I can't speak for Laddie."
"See you this afternoon."
She hung up without saying goodbye.
Sandy replaced the receiver. A little ball of apprehension
had made a tight knot in his belly.
"Sandy," the woman said accusingly. "You stopped."
Sandy rolled onto his back. "Sorry, luv. I've just been
put out of commission."
"Bad news?"
"Yes, bad news. Illness in the family."