The phone rang, startling Annie from her passion-induced idiocy. Mortified by her wanton, reckless behavior, she jerked away from Mitch and grabbed a towel. “That was a mistake,” she breathed raggedly. “But —” “But nothing,” Annie interrupted a seemingly baffled Mitch. Her cheeks scalding, she hastily wrapped the towel around herself. What was the matter with her? Why couldn’t she control herself around this man? “Look, Mitch, as soon as I’m dressed we’re going to have to talk about—” She motioned her arms wildly between them. “—this. I can’t deal with this. Not right now.” On that note, Annie pivoted sharply and headed for the door, intent on making a quick, but dignified escape. And she would have, had it not been for the puddle of sudsy water in her immediate path. Annie’s feet flew out from underneath her and, with the resounding smack of bare flesh hitting a wet surface, her rear hit the floor and she slid like a human torpedo over the remaining distance to the door.
