"Hair of the dog."
She gasped. "Snoopy!"
The dog, sitting on his haunches, panted happily at his mistress.
Zack laughed. "Not that dog."
"Oh. Good. Guess that's all right then." She drank a mouthful and gagged. "That's awful."
"But it's good for you. Finish it."
"You finish it, I'm going to sleep." She started to lie down but he grabbed her around the shoulders and pulled her to him.
"Ooh, I like it when you get all manly with me."
"I'm not being manly, I'm just trying to get you to drink this. Now do as you're told."
She scowled but drank until the glass was empty.
"Good. Now you can go to bed."
She raised her brows. "You coming?"
"I thought we agreed you couldn't stay awake."
"Oh yeah." She lay down and closed her eyes.
He pulled the covers up to her chin. It was best to leave her dressed. Who knows what trouble he'd get into if he allowed himself to see more of her than he should?
"So what do her boobs feel like?"
He sat down abruptly on the bed and blinked at her. "Melanie's?"
"Who else? Or do you know lots of women with big, fake boobs?"
"I know several. But I've never felt hers so I wouldn't know."
"Yeah sure. She was all over you."
Where was this conversation heading? Wherever, he didn't want to go there. "That doesn't mean we've, ah..."
Annie giggled then yawned. "I bet they feel like watermelons." Her voice faded as she drifted into sleep.
He smiled then leaned forward and kissed her forehead.
He should've left it at that. He shouldn't have kissed her on the lips.
But they looked so inviting, so rosie and sweet. And she was asleep.
Was.
Annie's lips opened in response to his kiss and her tongue flickered out to meet his. He liked the way she moaned and the way her arms reached around his neck and pulled him closer. He liked the way her hands trailed through his hair. And he loved the way her body strained to meet his.
God she felt good in his arms, on his lips. Then it suddenly hit him, with all the force of a punch. He wanted her. His body was eager for her—so eager it was painful.
But with a grunt of frustration, he pulled away. She fell back on the bed like a stone. He hadn't even known he'd been holding her. It wasn't right. Not just because she was drunk but because she was Annie. Perfect little Annie who could disrupt his life and destroy his dreams.
"I have to go," he said quickly, turning away.
"But, Zack..."
Damn. The plaintive note in her voice was so vulnerable, so unlike her that it raked his heart raw. He stopped at the door and turned back slowly. She looked so small, sitting up in her huge bed, blinking at him with those big, ocean-wide eyes, her mouth turned down into a pout. She was sexy. Dangerously sexy.
"Sorry, Annie, but you're drunk and I need to go." He tried to smile but it felt awkward with the taste of her still on his lips. He turned, tripping over Snoopy in his haste.
When he reached the front door, he heard her 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...