He worked one damp auburn curl, then another, back from her cheek. “You’ll feel better when you wake up.”
Her voice came from a distance. “I’ll have a splitting headache.”
“So you’ll take aspirin. You’ll be able to hold it down by then. But don’t take another drink, Susan. That’ll only make things worse.” He glanced toward the armoire. “That’s quite an arsenal you’ve got.”
“Don’t tell Savannah. Please?”
“Why would I tell Savannah? She doesn’t know I’m here, and even if she did, I’m not her spy.”
“What are you to her?”
“A friend, co-worker.”
“And to me?”
“I’m trying to figure that out.”
“Why are you here?”
“Because I like you.”
“I’m not your type.”
“How do you know what my type is? Christ, you’re amazing. You’re half-zonked and still you think you know it all.”
“I don’t know it all. I don’t know much of anything.”
He sighed. “Why don’t you go to sleep now?”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to get dressed and go home.”
She was quiet for a minute. Then she murmured, “Better do your hair first. There’s a blow dryer in the bathroom.”
Had it not been for her weary tone, he’d have had a comeback. But she was exhausted. She needed sleep far more than she needed his barbs. So he said, “I’ll give you a call later to see how you feel.”
“The way I feel now, I may be dead by then.”
“I doubt that.” He looked around the room and considered that if he were truly a Good Samaritan, he’d clean up. He guessed he wasn’t that good. Leaving the bedside, he took the towel from his hips and worked it over his hair. He was nearly at the bathroom door when Susan called his name.
“Sam?”
He turned back. “Mmm?”
Her face was still buried, her voice muffled, but he heard every word. “Right now I’m not feeling real great—”
“I know.”
“But some other time, when I’m feeling better, will you show me what’s in your briefs?”
Sam was no novice with women. He had had come-ons from respectable ladies and come-ons from hookers. But it was the first time that he had reacted to a come-on quite the way he did to Susan Gardner’s. In seconds, he was rock hard.
“Name the day,” he growled. “Name the day, honey, and it’s yours.” Not trusting himself further, he went into the bathroom to retrieve his clothes.
CHAPTER10
Savannah closed the door to Paul DeBarr’s office. “Sorry I’m late. That was theJournalon the phone. Before that, it was theCall,and before that, theGlobe.Word’s out.”
