footsteps
padding behind him. He looked back to see her standing in the bedroom doorway,
arms crossed, leaning against the wall. Snoopy hovered at her feet adoringly. "Good.
Go. And by the way, if I was sober there's no way I would've kissed you. I
don't like guys like you."
Shaken, he closed the door between them.
CHAPTER 7
Annie groaned and pulled the pillow over her head to
smother the incessant ringing in her ears.
It didn’t help. Her head felt like it had been smashed
into millions of tiny pieces which she expected to see scattered over her
bedroom floor when she opened her eyes. If she opened her eyes. So far,
her plan to lie in bed for the rest of the day with her eyes shut seemed like
the best headache remedy. The aspirin in the bathroom cabinet was half way
around the world.
"Annie, get up," shouted a deep male voice. It
sounded as far away as the aspirin.
Zack. She groaned again, rolled out of bed and thumped
across the floor like a zombie. Probably she should’ve refused to get up but
her brain cells had ceased functioning last night and it was easier not to
argue.
She opened the door and flung a hand over her eyes. "Turn
off the light."
Zack moved past her, closing the door behind him. "The
sun doesn't come with an off switch. Annie, where have you been? I've been
ringing the doorbell for ages."
"Cowering under my blanket. You made me drink
that God-awful hair of the dog and it didn't work."
He chuckled. Jerk. Maybe she should just go back to
bed. Not only could she not put up with his smartass comments right now, but
with her head under the blankets he couldn't see her. She didn't dare look in a
mirror—she didn't want to frighten herself.
"You look like Hell," he said, reading her
thoughts.
"Thanks, Einstein. Now that we've established
that, you can leave."
"No way, this could be fun."
She glanced up at him. The creep was smirking. "What?"
"Taking you shopping with a hangover."
She groaned and flopped onto the sofa, flinging an arm
over her eyes. Maybe if she couldn't see him, he couldn't see her. But when the
room fell silent, she realized he was no longer there. She lowered her arm and
gently opened her crusty eyelids, just in time to see him emerge from the
bathroom and enter the kitchen.
"Snooping again?" she asked, voice rasping
in a sexy way that she thought made her sound, well, sexy.
"No, getting some aspirin." He handed her a
glass of water and two tablets. "Drink up."
"That's what you said last night with that hair
of the dog stuff. This better work."
He waited until she swallowed the tablets and took the
glass from her. When she started to lie back on the sofa, he caught her hand
and pulled her up.
"Oh no you don't. You're going to have a
shower." He led her by the hand into the bathroom and propped her against
the cool tiles. She closed her eyes, listening to the splashing water as he
turned on the taps.
"Now get undressed."
She opened one eye and found herself staring him in
the face.
"I'm not staying," he added, "but since
you're going to be trying on lots of clothes, I suggest you shave your
legs."
Oh no . Annie winced, recalling the words spoken in drunkenness the night
before. She really had to learn to keep her mouth shut, and not just
when she was drunk. She heard the door close on Zack's throaty chuckle.
Half an hour later, she emerged from the bathroom
feeling slightly less ill and a great deal more presentable. She was ready for
a day of shopping, even if it killed her. She'd made a resolution to not let
Zack see how hung-over she was—she had her dignity to maintain after all.
What little of it was left after the previous night anyway. Not that she could
remember much...
"Please tell me you've got the Ferrari and not
the bike. I don't think I could handle another ride on that thing. Not this
morning."
"If you throw up on the bike at least you won’t
ruin the upholstery."
"I'm not going to throw up! I feel perfectly
fine." Liar .
"Good. Because
padding behind him. He looked back to see her standing in the bedroom doorway,
arms crossed, leaning against the wall. Snoopy hovered at her feet adoringly. "Good.
Go. And by the way, if I was sober there's no way I would've kissed you. I
don't like guys like you."
Shaken, he closed the door between them.
CHAPTER 7
Annie groaned and pulled the pillow over her head to
smother the incessant ringing in her ears.
It didn’t help. Her head felt like it had been smashed
into millions of tiny pieces which she expected to see scattered over her
bedroom floor when she opened her eyes. If she opened her eyes. So far,
her plan to lie in bed for the rest of the day with her eyes shut seemed like
the best headache remedy. The aspirin in the bathroom cabinet was half way
around the world.
"Annie, get up," shouted a deep male voice. It
sounded as far away as the aspirin.
Zack. She groaned again, rolled out of bed and thumped
across the floor like a zombie. Probably she should’ve refused to get up but
her brain cells had ceased functioning last night and it was easier not to
argue.
She opened the door and flung a hand over her eyes. "Turn
off the light."
Zack moved past her, closing the door behind him. "The
sun doesn't come with an off switch. Annie, where have you been? I've been
ringing the doorbell for ages."
"Cowering under my blanket. You made me drink
that God-awful hair of the dog and it didn't work."
He chuckled. Jerk. Maybe she should just go back to
bed. Not only could she not put up with his smartass comments right now, but
with her head under the blankets he couldn't see her. She didn't dare look in a
mirror—she didn't want to frighten herself.
"You look like Hell," he said, reading her
thoughts.
"Thanks, Einstein. Now that we've established
that, you can leave."
"No way, this could be fun."
She glanced up at him. The creep was smirking. "What?"
"Taking you shopping with a hangover."
She groaned and flopped onto the sofa, flinging an arm
over her eyes. Maybe if she couldn't see him, he couldn't see her. But when the
room fell silent, she realized he was no longer there. She lowered her arm and
gently opened her crusty eyelids, just in time to see him emerge from the
bathroom and enter the kitchen.
"Snooping again?" she asked, voice rasping
in a sexy way that she thought made her sound, well, sexy.
"No, getting some aspirin." He handed her a
glass of water and two tablets. "Drink up."
"That's what you said last night with that hair
of the dog stuff. This better work."
He waited until she swallowed the tablets and took the
glass from her. When she started to lie back on the sofa, he caught her hand
and pulled her up.
"Oh no you don't. You're going to have a
shower." He led her by the hand into the bathroom and propped her against
the cool tiles. She closed her eyes, listening to the splashing water as he
turned on the taps.
"Now get undressed."
She opened one eye and found herself staring him in
the face.
"I'm not staying," he added, "but since
you're going to be trying on lots of clothes, I suggest you shave your
legs."
Oh no . Annie winced, recalling the words spoken in drunkenness the night
before. She really had to learn to keep her mouth shut, and not just
when she was drunk. She heard the door close on Zack's throaty chuckle.
Half an hour later, she emerged from the bathroom
feeling slightly less ill and a great deal more presentable. She was ready for
a day of shopping, even if it killed her. She'd made a resolution to not let
Zack see how hung-over she was—she had her dignity to maintain after all.
What little of it was left after the previous night anyway. Not that she could
remember much...
"Please tell me you've got the Ferrari and not
the bike. I don't think I could handle another ride on that thing. Not this
morning."
"If you throw up on the bike at least you won’t
ruin the upholstery."
"I'm not going to throw up! I feel perfectly
fine." Liar .
"Good. Because
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