Page 89 of My Favorite Kidnapper

“Dick Wiggles,” she squeaked.

I shut my eyes.

I should have known it was going too well.

Shame about that sculpture.

Chapter Twenty-Two

DANTE

Brianna stumbled from the bedroom, sitting down heavily in the chair across from me. I sipped my coffee and peered at her over the rim of my cup.

She was a total disaster. Her hair was everywhere, mascara smudged under her eyes, and her face was pale. I had managed to get her dress off last night and slide one of my shirts over her while she attempted to take mine off, trying to be sexy and alluring. She came across as drunk and adorable instead.

“You gonna—hiccup—ravish me with your big—hiccup—rocking Richard—hiccup—old man?”

“I highly doubt that, Little Bee.”

“But you are soooo sexy—hiccup—like a tiger in the—” she tried snapping her fingers, but it was a lost cause “—what do you call that?”

“Jungle?” I offered.

“Yesh. The jungle. Flipping sexiest cat there. I want you.”

Then she passed out.

The girl snored when she was drunk. And talked in her sleep. About me, mostly. She groped a lot as well. I should have been annoyed, angry with her behavior. But again, all I felt was amusement and worry about the size of the hangover she would have in the morning.

“Coffee?” I asked. “Some breakfast?”

She lifted her head, opening one bloodshot, bleary eye. “No, thank you.” She ran a hand through her chaotic hair. “What happened?”

“After you called Richard Dick Wiggles, sprayed your wine all over him, me, and the table, and dissolved into hysterical giggles, you mean?”

If possible, her face went even whiter. “Oh God. I didn’t.”

“Oh, you did.”

She stared at me in horrified silence. Then she swallowed. “I think I need that coffee now.”

I poured a cup and pushed it her way. She took a few sips. “Should I pack my bags now, or can I go back to the villa and get my cat first?”

“Little Bee.”

She glanced up, her eyes sorrowful.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

She played with her coffee cup. “How furious are you?”

“I’m in too much shock to be furious. You spewed wine all over Richard, made fun of his name, and suddenly, you’re his best friend.” I shook my head, still processing everything that had happened.

“Turns out, Richard has a daughter he is incredibly fond of who went to university in Toronto. You reminded him of her. I waited for an explosion after the wine, and he laughed. Laughed. I have never heard the man laugh.”

I recalled my shock.

“You have a daughter? I didn’t know that.”