Strip Poker by Lisa Lawrence

Author:Lisa Lawrence
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780440336655
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2007-01-30T05:00:00+00:00

His place again. He insisted on cooking a meal for me, even though I told him he shouldn’t go to the trouble. “It’s okay, I like cooking. I actually find it relaxing. I run through lines in my head, practice my diction. Why don’t you pour yourself a glass of wine and relax? Put on some music if you like.”

I did. I hadn’t checked out his CD collection the last time I was here, but then I had been busy making a thorough inspection of other physical belongings. Now I let my fingers do their walking through Courtney Pine, Joss Stone and Craig David. I selected a Toni Braxton album and threw it on. I caught him smiling at my choice, perhaps thinking he had gained a little insight into me through it. I was glad to see the tension of his ordeal with the cops dissipating. Maybe they still considered him a suspect. I didn’t anymore.

As he chopped vegetables on the cutting board and fussed over a sauce, I tuned out Toni and picked up the muttering under his breath. “…When I did speak of some distressful stroke that my youth suffer’d. My story being done, she gave me for my pains a world of sighs…”

I wandered over to the bookshelf and searched. There was a well-worn copy sitting on the top shelf, and by the time I found the scene, he was already at “She loved me for the dangers I had pass’d, and I loved her that she did pity them.”

I knew he’d pause after the speech, so I skipped ahead and called out to the kitchen: “That I did love the Moor to live with him, my downright violence and storm of fortunes may trumpet to the world: my heart’s subdued even to the very quality of my lord…”

He took one step out of the kitchen, still holding a chopping knife and a green pepper, with a big delighted smile of white teeth. “Hey! Listen to you.”

“Yeah, right,” I laughed. “I signed up for a stage class at a community centre once. I went for one night then chickened out on the rest.”

“Too bad. You sounded good.”

“I don’t think the West End will miss me.”

I wandered back into the kitchen and slipped an arm around his waist. The gesture of affection felt natural, easy, as I asked him if I could do anything to help. He shook his head.

“You know that’s my favourite play,” he said.

“Why?”

“It’s bloody brilliant. The poetry, the story…It’s a fantastic part. I think he’s the noblest of all Shakespeare’s heroes, and that’s what makes it so achingly sad. It’s my dream role. I see every version I can get my hands on. I got the Laurence Fishburne version on DVD, probably the best one there’s been in a while.”

I was beginning to see what else drew Janet Marshall to him apart from the hot bod. It was doing a great job of pulling me in as well. Character. He had a lot of it.

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