That did it. Now he felt like a total brute. He closed the bathroom door.
He emerged a short time later wearing the clean underwear and the trousers he’d had on earlier. Abby was waiting, still fully dressed. She had the hotel vanity kit in hand.
It dawned on him that she did not have a nightgown.
“I’ve got a spare T–shirt,” he said.
“Thank you.” She looked relieved. “I’ll take it.”
He took a clean black T–shirt out of the duffel without a word and handed it to her. She slipped past him and disappeared into the small room. The door closed firmly. He heard water running in the sink. It ran for a very long time. He realized she was probably doing a little hand laundry. In the morning, he would probably find a pair of panties hanging on the towel rack. The vision heated his blood a little more.
He considered his options and went for the padded reading chair in the corner near the window. The sight of the ottoman cheered him in some macabre way.
“Damn perfect,” he muttered. “Just doesn’t get any better than this, does it, Coppersmith? You’re in the middle of a burn. Abby is a few feet away, getting ready for bed, and you get to crash in a chair with an actual ottoman. You’ll be able to prop up your feet. Wow.”
The bathroom door opened a crack. “Sam, did you say something?”
“Just talking to myself.”
“I understand. I do that sometimes, too. Well, actually, I talk to Newton. Maybe you should get a dog.”
He realized that he was gritting his teeth. “I’ll definitely have to think about doing just that.”
The door closed.
He opened the minibar, chose two small bottles, the whiskey and the brandy. He yanked a pillow off the bed, turned off all the lightsexcept the one by the bed and dropped into the chair. He propped his feet on the ottoman, twisted the top off one of the liquor bottles and swallowed some of the whiskey. He contemplated the closed door of the bathroom while he downed the medicinal alcohol. With luck, he would be unconscious by the time Abby came out.
The door opened quietly a few minutes later. Abby emerged wearing his T–shirt. It was much too big for her. The hem fell to her thighs. She looked sexy as hell in the shadows. An elemental thrill of possessiveness swept through him. He drank some more of the whiskey.
“Are you asleep?” she asked softly.
“Getting there.”
“I told you to take the bed.”
“I don’t follow orders well.”
“You don’t have to be grouchy about it,” she said. “I was just trying to make sure you’ll get the rest you need.”
“I’ll sleep fine right here.”Eventually.
“Are you drinking something?”
“Yeah.” He opened the second bottle. “Helps take the edge off the afterburn buzz.”
“You got into the minibar?”
“Uh–huh.” He swallowed some of the brandy.
“I could use a glass of wine myself.”
“Help yourself. There are a couple of small bottles of wine in the bar.”
She crossed the room, opened the minibar and studied the assortment. Then she glanced at the printed card that detailed the prices of the items in the bar.
“Geez, look at the prices,” she said.
“Go for it.” He saluted her with the miniature whiskey bottle. “Live large. I’m paying for the room, remember?”
