in his head.
He was lying half on his stomach, a slight breeze of air crossing his bare rump. Just as well he’d kicked off the sheet, he thought. The room was damn hot.
A feminine murmur came from behind him.
Paul flipped over, wreaking havoc in his body even as he grabbed for the sheet to cover his middle. Pain jabbed everywhere from his head to his toes in protest to his too-quick movements.
Judith lay next to him. A fully clad Judith. He had a moment to contemplate her state of dress and his lack of it before her eyes opened.
She tensed, although she didn’t seem as surprised as he to find herself in his bed.
“What the hell happened?” he croaked.
She made a face. “You asked me to tuck you in.”
“I must have been drunk.”
“You were.”
Of course he was. Everything came rushing back in vivid detail. Usually he didn’t drink because it didn’t dull the pain, only sharpened it. He covered his face with his hand, embarrassed at the display she had witnessed. He’d been vulnerable last night, full of self-pity, his feelings as naked as he was under the sheet. And then he’d been like a two-year-old, wanting to be tucked in. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been like that with anyone. If she hadn’t been scorched by his confession, the bedtime business must have turned her off completely. “Oh, God. What you must think of me.”
“I think you were entitled,” she said.
She thought he was entitled. He doubted it. Drinking never solved anything. Neither did his rendition of
Bedtime for Bonzo
. He’d looked justplain stupid, and in front of her. Lamely, he said, “I don’t think I meant you to stay all night.”
“I fell asleep. I’m sorry.” Her voice was stiff, as if she were embarrassed now.
He looked over at her. She was lying on her back, looking at the ceiling. He couldn’t help grinning. His male ego wasn’t thrilled to have had a woman fall asleep on him. Unfortunately, it hadn’t been
on
him, otherwise things would have been different. But she had stayed with him. She couldn’t think he was a terrible human being. She couldn’t. “I didn’t mind,” he said. “It’s nice to wake up next to someone.”
“Yes.” She got out of bed before he could stop her. “I better go. Although how I’m going to walk through the village with what everyone will be thinking—”
“Don’t worry about it. It may even be better for you, since the men will think I now have a claim. This is a very macho world here. Wait a minute and I’ll get up and make you breakfast.”
Her eyes widened. “Thank you, but no. I have my
Fruiti Lupis
.”
She started to walk out of the room. He wrapped the sheet around him and got out of bed. His head was still banging in protest to each movement, but this was more important.
“Please stay,” he said, catching up with her.
She shook her head. “I’ve stayed long enough.”
Her perfectly cut hair was tousled, and shehad a crease mark from the bedspread on her cheek. If he hadn’t had morning breath, he would have kissed her. He did anyway. On the cheek. Perfume lingered faintly on her skin, like the last wisp of a summer’s dawn. He wanted more, but restrained himself. “Thanks.”
Her face turned pink, making her seem like a schoolgirl. “You’re welcome, I think. I’d better go home.”
This time he let her go. But as he went into the kitchen, the sheet still wrapped around his middle, he was grinning to beat the band.
She didn’t hate him. She knew the worst about him, and she didn’t hate him.
But what was her worst? And why did he think he didn’t want to know?
Judith pulled back the tarp and contemplated her car. In its hidden position on the seaward side of her trailer, the gold Mercedes gleamed in the blazing sun. The detailing it had been given weeks before still protected the paint and chrome’s perfections.
The damnable thing would stand out like a yellow brick road if she took it onto the lonely highway. For
He was lying half on his stomach, a slight breeze of air crossing his bare rump. Just as well he’d kicked off the sheet, he thought. The room was damn hot.
A feminine murmur came from behind him.
Paul flipped over, wreaking havoc in his body even as he grabbed for the sheet to cover his middle. Pain jabbed everywhere from his head to his toes in protest to his too-quick movements.
Judith lay next to him. A fully clad Judith. He had a moment to contemplate her state of dress and his lack of it before her eyes opened.
She tensed, although she didn’t seem as surprised as he to find herself in his bed.
“What the hell happened?” he croaked.
She made a face. “You asked me to tuck you in.”
“I must have been drunk.”
“You were.”
Of course he was. Everything came rushing back in vivid detail. Usually he didn’t drink because it didn’t dull the pain, only sharpened it. He covered his face with his hand, embarrassed at the display she had witnessed. He’d been vulnerable last night, full of self-pity, his feelings as naked as he was under the sheet. And then he’d been like a two-year-old, wanting to be tucked in. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been like that with anyone. If she hadn’t been scorched by his confession, the bedtime business must have turned her off completely. “Oh, God. What you must think of me.”
“I think you were entitled,” she said.
She thought he was entitled. He doubted it. Drinking never solved anything. Neither did his rendition of
Bedtime for Bonzo
. He’d looked justplain stupid, and in front of her. Lamely, he said, “I don’t think I meant you to stay all night.”
“I fell asleep. I’m sorry.” Her voice was stiff, as if she were embarrassed now.
He looked over at her. She was lying on her back, looking at the ceiling. He couldn’t help grinning. His male ego wasn’t thrilled to have had a woman fall asleep on him. Unfortunately, it hadn’t been
on
him, otherwise things would have been different. But she had stayed with him. She couldn’t think he was a terrible human being. She couldn’t. “I didn’t mind,” he said. “It’s nice to wake up next to someone.”
“Yes.” She got out of bed before he could stop her. “I better go. Although how I’m going to walk through the village with what everyone will be thinking—”
“Don’t worry about it. It may even be better for you, since the men will think I now have a claim. This is a very macho world here. Wait a minute and I’ll get up and make you breakfast.”
Her eyes widened. “Thank you, but no. I have my
Fruiti Lupis
.”
She started to walk out of the room. He wrapped the sheet around him and got out of bed. His head was still banging in protest to each movement, but this was more important.
“Please stay,” he said, catching up with her.
She shook her head. “I’ve stayed long enough.”
Her perfectly cut hair was tousled, and shehad a crease mark from the bedspread on her cheek. If he hadn’t had morning breath, he would have kissed her. He did anyway. On the cheek. Perfume lingered faintly on her skin, like the last wisp of a summer’s dawn. He wanted more, but restrained himself. “Thanks.”
Her face turned pink, making her seem like a schoolgirl. “You’re welcome, I think. I’d better go home.”
This time he let her go. But as he went into the kitchen, the sheet still wrapped around his middle, he was grinning to beat the band.
She didn’t hate him. She knew the worst about him, and she didn’t hate him.
But what was her worst? And why did he think he didn’t want to know?
Judith pulled back the tarp and contemplated her car. In its hidden position on the seaward side of her trailer, the gold Mercedes gleamed in the blazing sun. The detailing it had been given weeks before still protected the paint and chrome’s perfections.
The damnable thing would stand out like a yellow brick road if she took it onto the lonely highway. For
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