Rescue Me(8)

He took her to his room.

He swore again to himself. This was not how he'd planned on his night ending. He hadn't wanted a woman in his bed to begin with, but one that was unconscious was even worse.

The walk up the beach with her in his arms wasn't difficult, and in no time he was deftly pulling his key out while cradling her. Once he was in the room with the door shut behind him, he debated what to do next.

He was about to lie her down on his bed when he realized they were both still soaking wet and sandy. He couldn't let her sleep like that. For all he knew, she'd wake up with a cold or something. Hadn't his mother always said something along those lines?

Not wanting to get the bed wet, he placed her on the sofa and stood back to look at her. Closing his eyes with a groan, he realized he was going to have to undress her. The idea of it made him feel like a creep, but what choice did he have?

Taking a deep breath, Cole found a fluffy robe in the bathroom and brought it out. He stared at her for a long moment and hesitated. Maybe he could try again to wake her? He knelt down beside her and shook her gently. "Meredith? Can you wake up for me?"

Nothing.

Great.

With as much care as he could he manage, he unhooked the dress strap from around her neck. Now what? He sat her up and she stirred briefly, his hopes rising that maybe she'd come to, but he grunted in frustration when her head fell against the back of the sofa.

Averting his eyes as much as possible, he peeled the clinging red dress down her damp skin until it was at her waist. No bra. He'd figured as much. Keeping his gazed fixed on the picture on the wall behind her, he lifted her up and grabbed the robe, hoping he could easily get it around her and be done.

No such luck.

She fell forward against him, her warm breasts pressing against his chest, heating him up through his cold, wet shirt.

Shit.

Making quick work of it, he slipped the robe over her arms and cinched it tightly at the waist. Clenching his jaw, he reached under the robe and slipped the dress down over her hips, catching his fingers on the thong he'd felt earlier. On or off? Deciding wearing wet panties to bed had to be a bad idea, he yanked them down quickly and tossed them aside with the dress.

This had to be some new form of torture. Maybe it was punishment for his years of bad behavior.

Scooping her up again, he placed her gently on his unmade bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. Knowing he should get the hell out of there, he started to step away but felt a magnetic pull back toward her. She was breathtaking. In her sleep, she looked even sweeter than before. He brushed a strand of hair away from her face and allowed himself the briefest second of pleasure by brushing his knuckles across her cheek.

Get a grip, dude.

What the hell was wrong with him? He wasn't the affectionate type. And that mush he'd said out on the beach. What was that? She had gotten under his skin somewhere between the dance floor and his room, and he didn't think he liked it one bit. Turning away abruptly, he grabbed a blanket and extra pillow from the top of the closet. It was only then that he remembered his own soaked clothing from the foray into the ocean. He rummaged in his drawer until he found some cotton pants and stomped out of the room.

Cole changed and headed toward the balcony, ready to go to sleep and end this night, but was distracted by the red fabric on the floor. He picked it up and hung it over a chair outside, hoping it would be dry by morning.

He threw himself down on the plush outdoor couch that was as big as a mattress and tried to sleep, but all he could think about was the gorgeous sex goddess sleeping all alone in his bed.





CHAPTER THREE



I'm gonna be sick! Meredith fought the roiling heat in her stomach and squeezed her eyes shut tighter, willing herself not to lose it. She rolled over carefully in the soft pillow-filled bed and immediately regretted it. Even the smallest movement had her head spinning like a top. She took several long breaths before attempting to open her eyes. Thank goodness the room was dark.

Gradually she became aware of the need to go the restroom but was afraid to move again. What an idiot. How had she let herself drink so much? Those days should be way behind her, yet here she was, hungover like she'd partied all night. She didn't think she'd had that much, three or four drinks, but maybe it didn't take much anymore.

Moving as slowly as possible, she raised her head from the pillows, inching her way into a sitting position before she had to stop again to steady her spinning head.

It must have been quite a night. Too bad she didn't remember much of it. She stood up and immediately regretted it. Running toward the bathroom, she felt along the wall for the door handle, but it wasn't there. Nothing but textured wallpaper met her fingertips. Confused and disoriented, she stumbled across the room, her eyes slowly adjusting to the dark. She was certain her bathroom was on the left side of the room. So why was it now on the right?

Finally, she found the door and pushed through, squinting against the blinding light as she flipped the switch. Her head began pounding and she groaned. Absolutely ridiculous. She made her way to the sink and splashed cold water on her face, sipping slowly from her hands in an effort to relieve her parched throat. She would not get sick. She refused. Placing her palms on the counter, she hung her head and took a few more steadying breaths. She just needed to focus and she'd be okay.

After a moment, she became aware of the fluffy white robe hanging off her shoulder and frowned as she rubbed the plush fabric between her fingers. She didn't remember her room having a robe. She looked around the bathroom more carefully and blinked. She was positive her room didn't come with a man's shaving kit.