Slow Hand (Hot Cowboy Nights, #1)(23)

She drew a few slow, deep breaths, waiting for the return of her equilibrium. Once the dizziness had eased up, she took a better look at her surroundings. The room was large, airy, and comfortable. A thick, brightly patterned quilt on the bed matched the curtains. There were framed prints on the walls too, but it lacked any truly personal touches. Must be a guest room. He’d mentioned the family ranch. Had he taken her there last night? If so, she’d surely be meeting his family.

Shit. In her present condition, she’d rather face a firing squad.

Intent on testing her legs, she swung them over the side of the bed, and then lowered her feet to the gleaming heart-of-pine floor, before gingerly pulling herself upright. She thought she might actually be OK until she took a step. Her stomach seized, sending a surge of bile upward into the back of her throat. She clutched the bed post with sweaty hands. Please no! Not in his family’s house.

A rap on the door sounded softly. “Nicole? Are you all right?”

“No,” she croaked. “Please, just go away!”

The door flew open. Then he was there looming over her, all big and strong and looking concerned, when it was his damned fault to begin with. “As bad as all that?” he asked, wrinkles grooving his forehead.

She choked back her reply and gave a brisk nod, praying she wouldn’t hurl on his boots.

“Come on, sweetheart. The bathroom’s this way.”

He half carried her across the hall—just in time for her stomach to let loose a series of crippling spasms. Supporting her body with one strong arm, he held her hair back with the other as she heaved her guts out. Could this get any worse? She couldn’t see how.

When the convulsive retching finally ceased, he dropped the toilet lid and sat her down on it. She watched dumbly while he filled a Dixie cup from the faucet. She wondered if her humiliation had hit bottom yet, or if there was still more fun to come.

“The morning after really sucks, doesn’t it?” He offered her the cup with a sympathetic half smile. He wet a wash cloth and handed her that too.

“Yeah,” she said, avoiding his gaze, mostly for fear of catching her reflection. She didn’t want to know what a mess she was right now. “Where are we?” she asked.

“The old homestead. The Flying K.”

“Why am I here? Why didn’t you bring me back to town, especially given the shape I was in?”

“Thought you’d be more comfortable here, and I certainly wasn’t going to leave you alone in the shape you were in.”

“But that’s just it. You did leave me alone when you probably could have had your wicked way with me.”

“Don’t take me for a saint, Nikki. I’d be lying through my teeth if I said I wasn’t tempted.”

“Last night maybe.” She gave a deprecating laugh. “But I think I’ve probably cured you of that affliction for good.”

He grinned. “Don’t be too sure about that. I’ve got a hearty constitution.” He opened the drawer to the miracle of a brand-new toothbrush. “Here, this might make you feel better. I also brought your bag up. It’s right outside the door. I’ll go get it.”

“Thanks again, Wade.”

The minute he turned his back, she loaded up the toothbrush with mint paste and stuck it in her mouth. Her first glance in the mirror almost made her shriek. She had pillow lines on her left cheek, her hair was a virtual rat’s nest, and the makeup smears around her eyes made her resemble a raccoon. “Dear God!”

She splashed her face with cold water and frantically rubbed at her makeup shadows. She was clawing her fingers through her tangled hair with one hand and nearly brushing the enamel off her teeth with the other, when he reappeared behind her right shoulder. Great! Just in time to see her spit! She debated swallowing the mouthful of toothpaste, but decided against chancing fluoride poisoning just for vanity. Instead, she covered her mouth with one hand and dipped her head low to the sink.

“You have shitty timing, Wade!”

“Don’t be embarrassed.” He placed his big warm hands on her shoulders with a chuckle. “I’ve worshiped at the porcelain throne more times than I could count. Besides, I’m much to blame. I should have taken you home sooner.”

“Why didn’t you?” she accused.

“Truth?”

She nodded.

“Because I wanted to see the real you, that’s why. I wanted to know what you’re like with your hair down, wanted to hear you laugh.”

“You got all that and a bag of chips, didn’t you, cowboy?” Had they stayed any longer she’d likely have given him a tabletop striptease.

His laugh rumbled from deep in his chest. “Don’t underestimate me, darlin’. I can handle whatever you dish out.”

Nikki had no reply. That seemed to be happening far too often lately. What had happened to her self-possession? It seemed to have evaporated the minute she met him.

Shit. She had it bad.

He pulled back the shower curtain and turned on the tap. “A hot shower will do you a world of good. I’ll wait until you’re done and then take you down to breakfast.” He glanced at his watch. “Or maybe I should say brunch.”

“Is it really that late?”

“Almost ten, which is practically dinnertime on a ranch. You’d better get a wiggle on it if we’re to get to the bank in Sheridan. They close at noon on Saturday.”