The king-size bed dips when Harlow sits on the edge. “Here, take these; they will help with your head,” she suggests.
Her voice makes me wince when it screeches through my eardrums before clustering in my thumping head. Peering out of my left eye only, I spot her holding a full bottle of pain medication in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. She has a broad grin stretched across her adorable face.
I scoot up the bed until I’m leaning on the plush black leather button-pressed bedhead. Unscrewing the cap of the water, I swig down half the bottle with three headache tablets.
“Are you sure it was champagne in that bottle? My head is telling me a different story.”
I feel more hungover now than I did when I downed cocktails like soda water three months ago.
“Yes, it was only champagne.” She giggles. “But if you had mentioned you took Xanax, I would have limited the number of glasses I allowed you to consume.”
“Ohh.”Now my pounding headache makes sense.
“Yeah, oh. That’s the best blackout concoction I know of.” She grins and shakes her head.
“But oh. . .my. . .god, girl, you should’ve seen Isaac. He was all frantic and possessive when you wouldn’t wake up. He wouldn’t let anyone go near you, let alone touch you. It was h-o-t HOT. He only settled down when Cormack discovered the bottle of Xanax in your purse, and I explained we were drinking champagne before we left.”
“Cormack went through my purse?” My mind frantically strives to remember if I placed my FBI identification in there.
“Yeah.” Her mischievous eyes stare into mine.
“Harlow?” My tone is low, demanding further explanation.
“They also found your strip of condoms.”
“I don’t have condoms in my. . .”
Oh shit, yes I do.
“They’re an old stash. I haven’t used them in months. I packed them when I went on vacation. They were an emergency stash. Everyone has an emergency stash. Just in case. . .in case—”
“You need to have sex in a bathroom thirty thousand feet in the air?” Harlow waggles her brows.
I slap her arm. Her giggles erupt into a fit of boisterous muscle-clenching, cheek-tightening laughter. Her legs and arms fling out as she flops onto the bed dramatically.
Once her infectious laughter calms down, her eyes, glistening with tears, lift to mine.
“What was Isaac’s reaction to the condoms?” Curiosity echoes in my tone.
Harlow leans over and clenches my hand in hers. Her eyes bore into mine. It is the most serious I’ve ever seen her.
"He growled. Not a dainty pussycat roar. He full-on growled a sexy-as-sin growl. Then he scooped you into his arms, and that is where you stayed until he laid you on this bed.” Her eyes gloss over with excitement.
A ping of disappointment twists my chest, upset I missed hearing Isaac’s sexy-as-sin growl.
“He only left thirty minutes ago because he had some business calls to attend to. He made me promise I wouldn’t leave your side until he returned.”
“What time is it?” I question as my eyes seek a clock.
Harlow rises from the bed and paces toward the floor-to-ceiling windows on each side of the headboard. Grasping the burgundy and gold pleated curtains, she dramatically opens them to reveal a blinding stream of sunlight that makes my eyes wince in pain from the brightness.
“I slept all afternoon and night?” I ask, my mind a jumbled mess of confusion.
The plane was scheduled to land at 3 PM, but there is no doubt it is morning sunlight streaming through the window.
“Yep.” The “p” pops from her mouth.
She moves back to the bed, her face morphing from playful to taut with concern.
