Allie, Allie...The moment he saw her outline at the door, he knew she had read his mind. She approached him now, a vision in a lacy white night gown. He could make out her figure beneath the light cotton fabric. She seemed to move like a whisper along a cloud through the room and over to him. Sitting on the bed, she leaned over, fingered his chai medallion and stroked his bare chest. Shivering, Ross brought his arms around to enfold and pull her down.
"For some reason," she whispered, "I can't sleep."
He tried to concentrate on something, anything but her mouth, so close and so tempting. "Neither can I, but we can't do this, not here."
"You're right. Not in Coco's room or in Josie's bed."
Allie ran a finger down his nose, to the little philtrum beneath and then across his lips
