“Now-now, you wouldn’t want me to lie, would you?” Jack’s dark head appeared as he sat up, resting a corded forearm on the mattress. Those warm, pale eyes met mine. “Are you going to just lie there and glower?”
I clenched my teeth. Another whimper broke free, my skull feeling as if it were moments from exploding. More pain spread from my chest. God, what the hell did we do last night? Apparently, I’d finally said yes. But knowing my runaway mouth, he’d probably baited me, and I’d retaliated, doing the exact opposite. I’d obviously lost if I was here in his bed. Naked.
Oh, Lord, kill me now.
“I can tell you what happened if you really want to know,” he teased, tunneling his fingers through his sleep-tousled, raven hair, his inked biceps flexing with the movements.
Yeah, no. I’d rather die than have my shame reiterated.
Bile rushed up to my throat, and I shot to my feet. The sheet dragging behind me, I lurched toward one of the two doors on the adjacent wall. Thankfully, it opened into a spacious bathroom. With a groan, I dropped to my knees and heaved the minuscule contents of my stomach into the toilet, barely aware of the hand that held my hair back from my face or the palm gently rubbing my back.
I hated feeling this miserable from a wretched hangover. Along with the devils’ army chorusing in my skull, my chest hurt so freakin’ bad. Worse, my body felt too warm as if I’d sprung a low-grade temperature. God. I moaned, wishing the exquisitely tiled marble floor would open up and swallow me whole because Jack had witnessed my utter humiliation.
His warmth left me. I eased away from the toilet and flopped against the wall, my eyes closed as I gripped the sheet tight. Why did I drink in the first place when I normally didn’t do things like that?
The sound of running water drifted to me. Soft footsteps. “Here.”
Forcing my eyelids open, I found Jack hunkered down in front of me. I peered at the glass he held out, along with the two capsules in his palm.
With a shaky hand, I popped the pills, but he held the glass to my lips, which I was grateful for because I would have probably dropped it. Those cool, gray eyes skimmed over my face as I thirstily gulped the water. “You should come back to bed and lie down.”
Back to the scene of the sex action, one I had no memory of? I wanted to cry.
When I remained silent, he rose to his feet and headed for the door. “I’ll get you something to eat. It’ll help.”
I tipped my head against the wall and closed my eyes again. All I wanted was to slink out of here and never see Jack Griffin again.
Until wedding rehearsals start,the tiny, annoying voice in my head gleefully pointed out.
I moaned, rubbing my fuzzy head.
It struck me then that I was in Jack’s home, wherever that was. Eyes snapping open, I pushed to my feet, ready to flee—oh, dear God! What if his family saw me sneaking out, especially with me smelling of vomit? Then I’d be labeled as one of his slanks, be one of the many he brought home.
The heaving sensation in my belly started again, tracking up to my throat, and a pained whimper escaped me. A coppery smell tormented my nose. My mouth tasted vile. Worse, my tongue felt as if it had grown fur—bleh!
No, shower first.
Fisting the sheet tighter, I trudged to the spacious glass stall—ugh,toothpaste! I needed that asap.
I found a tube in the cabinet and stole Jack’s toothbrush. He could go get a new one. I brushed my teeth, rinsed my mouth, then shuffled to the shower, feeling as if I’d aged overnight. Sighing, I turned on the faucet and water splattered down on the tiles.
As I started to unwind the sheet from my body, a hand grasped my arm. “No.”
9
Ray
I wheeled around,then wished I hadn’t at the ache in my chest, and scowled at Jack anyway. “What do you meanno? Believe me, this is the last place I want to be, but I need a shower.”
His mouth tight, he reached behind me and shut off the water. “You can’t have one, not just yet.”
“Why not?” I glared, a wave of lightheadedness sweeping through me. “I’m not leaving here, smelling of vomit.”
His quiet gaze held mine as he gently unclenched my fingers from the sheet and turned me to the mirror. Hastily, I covered my breasts, my face flaming at seeing my naked self, with him bare-chested behind me. Then a deathly cold blast swept through me like a squall, my gaze locking on the dressing beneath my left boob, the white gauze streaked with blood.
“You were hurt last evening at your friend’s place.”
There was a hard note in his tone as memories rushed through me in a flood. Oscar, the assault…
