“
I’m taking thirty to shower and give myself a full body lift. You’ll thank me later,” she parroted back to her sister.
“Says the sister who was born looking like an Olympian. Wah-wah.”
Kerry stood and stretched, stifling a groan as every muscle in her body protested. So much for the restorative powers of sleep. She grabbed her last fresh pair of khaki shorts, decided which of her already worn T-shirts was the least questionable, made a mental note to take her laundry basket with her when she left, then sighed as she caught sight of her restless night, wild-child hair once again in the mirror. If only Cooper could see your oh-so-sexy self now, she thought, he’d book the next flight out.
“Kerry?”
“Well,” she said, making a face at herself in the mirror, “if there was an Olympic even for bed head, I’d take the gold right now, no question. Even the Russian judge would have to cave and give me a ten.”
“I’d say give me a break, but come to think of it, I have seen you in the morning.”
“Bite me.”
“Oh, and because you brought it up,” Fiona added, her voice dripping with sugar once again, “make sure you book some extra time to tell us every last detail about your dead-sexy Aussie fiancé.”
“He’s not my--”
“Hurry!” Fiona interrupted as group laughter echoed through the phone from somewhere behind her; then she hung up.
Kerry looked at the dead phone, then tossed it on the bed, mumbling swear words in several languages under her breath.
”
”