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position, she let her eyes drift shut. But they’d only been closed for a few seconds when she asked, “Could you just do me one more favor before you leave?”
    “Uh, sure.”
    “Could you sit by me while I fall asleep? The room is spinning, and I’m scared.”
    “I can do that,” he said.
    She fell asleep instantly. Time for him to return to his motel, take a cold shower, and then, maybe he’d count freckles. “Sheep!” he groaned out. “I meant sheep.”
    * * * * * * * * * *
    It sounded like a fire alarm, and it wasn’t the first time she’d heard it that morning. Janie sat up in bed, or tried to sit up, rather. And if her head didn’t feel as if someone had dropped an anvil on it, she probably would have made it, too.
    Her mouth felt funny--kind of dry and furry, like she’d swallowed a tennis ball. Come to think of it, maybe she had swallowed a tennis ball. Picking at whatever was stuck to her tongue and the roof of her mouth, she was relieved to see it was only pink fuzz, obviously from her slipper, which lay beside her pillow.
    What on earth had possessed her to drink all that wine last night? she wondered, slowly draping a leg over the edge of the bed and placing her foot on the floor.
    Maneuvering her body around so she was lying sideways, she placed the second one on the floor. Good, she thought. Both feet were on the floor. It was a start, at least. Now, all she had to do was lift her head, shoulders and hips from the mattress, crawl to the window, and jump.
    Sucking in a huge breath for strength, she leaned on her elbows and pushed, but her head only made it about two inches off the mattress before crashing back into place. Moaning softly, she decided it was no use. And it would be worthless shouting to the neighbors for help because she didn’t have the energy to do that either.
    She was a toasted marshmallow for sure. She just prayed it would be a quick and painless death. Although she hadn’t seen any flames, nor had she smelled any smoke. And she noticed whatever had been making all that noise had finally stopped. Blessed silence, at last. It must have been a false alarm.
    “You’re awake.” A man’s voice echoed into the room and throbbed against her brain. Gabe was still here? His deep, sexy baritone held a rasp of excitement. Only right now, he could be standing there bare-ass naked, and she wouldn’t find him any more exciting than a dust bunny.
    Okay, so maybe she was lying. Just thinking about him naked got her excited. God only knew how she’d react if she actually saw him in the nude. Fat chance of that happening, she thought, remembering how he’d turned her down last night.
    “Your sister just called to see if you were still breathing. She also left three messages on your answering machine this morning.”
    “Is that what that noise was? I thought the building was on fire.” Carefully, she angled her head to the side for a better view of the man standing in her bedroom doorway.
    The first thing she noticed was his mouth, grinning at her. Remembering those lips and the way they’d possessed her last night made her salivate.
    Knowing it was extremely dangerous to stare at his mouth--no telling what she might say--she dropped her gaze. Apparently he hadn’t stayed all night, because he’d changed his clothes. Today’s blue jeans were a rich indigo and his T-shirt was white. He looked freshly showered and shaved, too. While here she lay, with mascara-crusted cheeks and matted hair, wearing last night’s skirt wrapped around her waist .
    Yikes! she thought, tugging at the khaki material. But it was no use. Not only were her fingers clumsy and awkward, but her hips felt like lead balloons. There was no way she could lift them to pull her skirt down.
    “What are you doing here?” she asked, groping for the sheet and pulling it over her hips and thighs.
    “I wanted to make sure you were all right. And last night I noticed you didn’t have anything in the way of a hangover