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She went quiet, nuzzling up against his body. After a few minutes, he felt her body r
elax into sleep. As he laid her down on the comforter, her breathing evened out, and she curled one hand under her chin—somehow managing to be simultaneously winsome and irresistible.
Darcy didn’t know what to think. Hearing evidence of her attraction to him made his heart soar, but would she deny it when sober? And, of course, he wanted more from her than attraction; he wanted her to have feelings for him. Profound feelings. He didn’t just want her in his bed; he wanted her by his side.
Preferably for the rest of his life.
It was frightening how much he wanted that.
Elizabeth had worked her way under his skin, burrowed deep into his heart, and there was no way to get her out. He’d been a fool to think that one or two nights would be enough to work her out of his system. He had no doubt that sex with her would be terrific, but he also knew that it would only leave him wanting more.
If only he knew what she wanted.
With a sigh, Darcy walked around to the other side of the bed and slipped between the sheets, wondering what tomorrow would hold.
***
It was, Elizabeth reflected, rather alarming to wake up surrounded by unfamiliar sheets. They were, to be sure, very soft. The thread count must have been in the millions, if that was possible. And they were a soft gray. Who the hell would buy gray sheets?
A guy, that’s who.
Her head throbbed, and her mouth tasted like the floor of a bus station toilet.
Elizabeth didn’t move a muscle, not even her head. She simply surveyed the part of the room visible from her current position. Definitely a guy’s bedroom. A few black-and-white artsy photos on the walls. A bank of windows covered by floor-to-ceiling drapes—also gray, with a little blue. Nothing was familiar.
Where the hell am I?
She’d probably be more alarmed about the unfamiliarity of her surroundings if feeling crappy didn’t occupy so much of her consciousness. What the hell had happened? She remembered watching In the Shadows from the back of the theater and fleeing to the bar when it became overwhelming. She didn’t recall seeing anyone from her family. Had she talked to anyone? Even Jane?
There was someone… An elusive memory teased her. Will. Shit. William Darcy had been at the bar. Just what she needed. He would mock her mercilessly about her drunken state. Why couldn’t she have gotten smashed in private? I never should have gone to the premiere.
So, whose room was she in?
Her gut spasmed with incipient nausea. Oh no. No, no, no.
Maybe it’s not so bad. Maybe a friend brought me home. A friend like… Her list of male friends who possibly could have such a room was short…like nonexistent. But there was no way this room belonged to a female friend.
A sigh and a rustle of sheets from the other side of the bed. Oh, no. There was definitely someone under the gray sheets over there.
Okay, time to bite the bullet.
Ignoring how the movement made her head spin, she rolled over slowly, trying not to disturb the other occupant of the bed. It confirmed her worst suspicions. Those dark curls and broad shoulders could only belong to William Darcy. Shit. I’m in bed with Will. She stifled a groan.
Oh God.
Smug bastard.
She had long ago conceded her attraction to the guy. Who wouldn’t be attracted to him? Heck, he probably even gave heterosexual guys pause. But in spite of that—because of that—he was absolutely the worst guy for her to go home with.
If he had whispered sweet nothings in her ear while she was drunk and vulnerable, who knows what might have happened? In her current state of mind, she would have found him impossible to resist.
But…
Thoughts formed sluggishly as she stared at him. He was wearing a t-shirt, which molded rather nicely to his shoulders and back. She lifted the covers enough to peek underneath; he also wore boxer shorts. Maybe they hadn’t—
Only then did Elizabeth wonder what she was wearing. Her fingers found the material of her evening gown, now quite wrinkled. Even her thong panties were still in place. Thank God. William Darcy really was a gentleman.
And I’m a drunken mess. God knows what I told him—how much I revealed to him.
