She was rat-arsed. Completely drunk.
“It isn’t a common occurrence that we break lamps, Elle. We don’t need backups.”
This seemed to confuse her as if she broke lamps with great regularity and had a ready supply to act as replacements.
“Just in case,” she muttered then her eyes narrowed on him and her face became severe. “Don’t take another step.”
He’d neared her and didn’t stop moving while he said, “Sorry?”
He barely got out the word when she suddenly, for some drunken reason, swung the broom at him. He had to jerk his torso back to miss being hit.
This movement sent her off-balance, so much so, she collided with the chair. Twisting to right herself, she dropped the broom and Prentice swiftly moved forward and caught her at her waist, yanking her upright and into his body.
He watched her profile as she glared at the chair.
“Who put that there?” she snapped, continuing to scowl at the chair like she was willing it to disintegrate from the heat of her gaze.
“It’s always been there.”
She twisted her neck to look at him and announced, “It has not.”
He was finding it very difficult not to burst out laughing but somehow he succeeded in this task.
“It has,” he said.
“It hasn’t,” she retorted.
“It has.”
“It. Has. Not.”
He chuckled as he said, “Elle, it has.”
“Well!” she snapped. “That’s a silly place to put a chair. It’s dangerous, especially with the children around.” She caught his eye and advised stoutly, “You should move it.”
He put his hands to her h*ps and started to push her to the hall murmuring, “I’ll consider it.”
She suddenly stood stock-still and cried, “You’re barefoot!” She whirled to face him and announced, “Not another step, Prentice Cameron, you might cut yourself. I’m going to clean up the lamp.”
“I’ll clean it up after we get you to bed.”
“I broke it, I’ll clean it up. And anyway, you’re barefoot,” she returned.
“I’ll put on shoes. You’re in no state to clean up the lamp.”
She tilted her head, her face a wild range of expressions as she considered this.
Prentice watched her face, explicitly reading every thought that passed through her mind and enjoying the show.
Then she nodded. “Okay, you can clean it up but you have to promise to get every… single… piece so Sally doesn’t accidentally hurt herself.”
Her concern for his daughter also settled in his gut, it also was a warm, satisfying feeling and Prentice gently turned her around and pushed her again toward the hall while saying gruffly, “I promise.”
“All right then,” she gave in.
With difficulty he guided her through the hall. She couldn’t walk a straight line if paid a bigger fortune than she already had to do it.
“I thought you were staying at Fergus’s,” he remarked.
“I thought so too but Annie said no. No, no, no, no, no. No friend of hers was sleeping on a couch. We were all in the taxi and she made them all come right here. First! Even though Fergus’s is closer to the village,” she finished this story and slipped on the stairs, nearly going down, her hand thrown out to catch her fall but Prentice was close and hooked an arm around her waist again.
His arm tightened and he lifted her, carrying her the last two steps to the landing. He put her down and moved her around the corner, keeping his hands on her waist as he guided her up the last flight of steps.
When they hit her rooms, he let her go, flipped on the switch and she meandered in a random zigzag pattern to the bedroom.
All the while she meandered, she chattered.
“I love your children. They’re the best. But I especially love Sally.” She stopped, swayed, righted herself, twisted to look at him and said, “No, Jason. I especially love Jason.” Then her eyes went unfocused and she bit her lip before saying, “No, Sally.” Then her face filled with confusion before it cleared and she finished, “Oh hell, they’re both great.”
Then she swayed back around and zigzagged into the bedroom toward the lamp.
He quickly followed her as she got close to the lamp, deciding it best at that juncture that he operate the household electronics. He gently moved her and turned on the lamp.
She plunked down on the side of the bed and bent double, her hands going to her shoes. Prentice prepared to leave her to it.
But he didn’t when she spoke. “We had so much fun.” Her head tilted back sharply, her ponytail flying and she smiled radiantly at him. “People were even nice to me.”
The different, unpleasant weight settled in his gut.
She turned her attention back to her shoe. “I know it was for Annie’s sake but still, I could pretend.”
Looking at the back of her head, Prentice had the odd but very strong desire to wrap that sleek, shining ponytail around his fist, pull her head back and kiss her.
Before he could process this disturbing thought, she lifted her torso up jerkily and twisted her leg at an impossible angle so her knee was wrenched, her calf was on the mattress at her side and her hand went back to her ankle.
“What is with these straps?” she muttered in frustration, yanking at the strap of her sexy, high-heeled sandal.
Prentice crouched in front of her and moved her hands away. “I’ll do it.”
She pushed at his hands, declaring, “I’ll do it.”
He pushed at her hands. “I’ll do it.”
“I can do it!”
He caught her eyes and said low, “Elle.”
She stared at him then huffed out a sigh, “All right, you do it.”
Then she whipped her leg out, he reared back to miss being hit by her flying foot, and she held it out for him to take off her sandal.
He straightened and took the back of her heel in one hand, the fingers of his other working the strap.
But his eyes were on her.
He should have focused on her shoe.
He watched as she yanked out her ponytail holder and tossed it on the nightstand amongst a tidy display of pumps and jars and a stack of leather-bound journals.
Then she mussed her hair, the heavy, blonde locks flying everywhere.
It was an extraordinary show and Prentice felt his body instantly and pleasurably tighten in response.
Christ, he had to get out of there.
He unfastened the strap and slid her shoe off, dropping it to the floor.