still passed out on the bed. Thank God. He repositioned her boneless form until she was on the pillows. Connor contemplated making her more comfortable by stripping off her clothes. Not the best idea, considering how he’d already lost control of himself. In the end, he took off her fancy boots and pulled the blanket up over her. She snuggled into it, rolled over and started snoring.
She’d said she was twenty-six, and had the look of someone who’d had a few hard years in her life. He knew the look well—saw it in the mirror every day, as a matter of fact.
His civic duty done, he put the key on the dresser and left the room. If he was honest with himself, she wasn’t his type, but something about her made him react more strongly than he had with any other woman. He pushed the memory of arousal away with difficulty as he made his way back downstairs. When her lips had touched his, it had felt as though a lightning bolt had slammed into him.
Connor shook off the memory—he’d never see her again, so what difference did it make? In the morning, she’d be gone from Lobos and just a memory he could tuck away in the dusty corners. With luck, she’d never find out what he’d done in her bathroom.
After he made it back downstairs, he started to head back to the bar, then thought better of it. No need to have another drink; the mystery woman had given him a prime example of why he shouldn’t imbibe too much.
The night air had cooled enough that he could almost see his breath. As he walked to his truck, the image of the woman on the bed flitted through his memory. He didn’t know what it was about the brunette that stayed with him—perhaps it was her blue eyes. They were as haunted as his own.
CHAPTER THREE
A lex woke up slowly. Her mouth tasted like old sweat socks and her head pounded as if some little creature were banging on her temple with a hammer. She was in a bed, fully clothed, thank God, and she smelled like bourbon.
She opened one eye and looked around. It was a hotel room, a generic one like many others. Her traveling bag was on the floor near the dresser, which meant this was her room. She lay there and listened to the sounds of the hotel around her. Fortunately, there was no one in her room with her.
Alex sat up like an old woman, groaning with the rush of blood to her head. She remembered getting to the hotel, had a vague recollection of checking in, then a much better recollection of the bar.
Oh shit. She’d started on bourbon; doubles if she wasn’t mistaken. There was a gorgeous green-eyed cowboy she’d flirted with, and then, nothing. She finally made it to the edge of the bed, where she held her head in her hands and tried not to run to the bathroom and vomit.
Her shoes were side by side on the floor.
Alex stared at the ankle boots and tried like hell to remember taking them off. She didn’t even remember getting into bed, much less taking off her shoes. That meant only one thing—someone had brought her back to her room and taken them off.
Her heart pounded at the realization she’d put herself in danger. All because she’d come back to Lobos and lost control of her emotions. Too much booze and self-pity was not a good combination.
She was still dressed, which hopefully meant whatever cowboy brought her back to her room had been a gentleman. Or she’d done something really stupid and then re-dressed herself. Unlikely, considering she didn’t feel as though she’d had sex, but still a possibility.
Alex didn’t drink often and this was exactly why. She usually ended up doing something out of character, but this was beyond that. It had put her in danger and she hadn’t even been aware of it.
After making it to the shower, she stepped in and let the hot spray wake her up. The hangover wasn’t too bad; she was more tired than anything. Coffee would be the first priority after she got dressed.
As she dropped off the key, the desk clerk looked at her as if the young man knew what
She’d said she was twenty-six, and had the look of someone who’d had a few hard years in her life. He knew the look well—saw it in the mirror every day, as a matter of fact.
His civic duty done, he put the key on the dresser and left the room. If he was honest with himself, she wasn’t his type, but something about her made him react more strongly than he had with any other woman. He pushed the memory of arousal away with difficulty as he made his way back downstairs. When her lips had touched his, it had felt as though a lightning bolt had slammed into him.
Connor shook off the memory—he’d never see her again, so what difference did it make? In the morning, she’d be gone from Lobos and just a memory he could tuck away in the dusty corners. With luck, she’d never find out what he’d done in her bathroom.
After he made it back downstairs, he started to head back to the bar, then thought better of it. No need to have another drink; the mystery woman had given him a prime example of why he shouldn’t imbibe too much.
The night air had cooled enough that he could almost see his breath. As he walked to his truck, the image of the woman on the bed flitted through his memory. He didn’t know what it was about the brunette that stayed with him—perhaps it was her blue eyes. They were as haunted as his own.
CHAPTER THREE
A lex woke up slowly. Her mouth tasted like old sweat socks and her head pounded as if some little creature were banging on her temple with a hammer. She was in a bed, fully clothed, thank God, and she smelled like bourbon.
She opened one eye and looked around. It was a hotel room, a generic one like many others. Her traveling bag was on the floor near the dresser, which meant this was her room. She lay there and listened to the sounds of the hotel around her. Fortunately, there was no one in her room with her.
Alex sat up like an old woman, groaning with the rush of blood to her head. She remembered getting to the hotel, had a vague recollection of checking in, then a much better recollection of the bar.
Oh shit. She’d started on bourbon; doubles if she wasn’t mistaken. There was a gorgeous green-eyed cowboy she’d flirted with, and then, nothing. She finally made it to the edge of the bed, where she held her head in her hands and tried not to run to the bathroom and vomit.
Her shoes were side by side on the floor.
Alex stared at the ankle boots and tried like hell to remember taking them off. She didn’t even remember getting into bed, much less taking off her shoes. That meant only one thing—someone had brought her back to her room and taken them off.
Her heart pounded at the realization she’d put herself in danger. All because she’d come back to Lobos and lost control of her emotions. Too much booze and self-pity was not a good combination.
She was still dressed, which hopefully meant whatever cowboy brought her back to her room had been a gentleman. Or she’d done something really stupid and then re-dressed herself. Unlikely, considering she didn’t feel as though she’d had sex, but still a possibility.
Alex didn’t drink often and this was exactly why. She usually ended up doing something out of character, but this was beyond that. It had put her in danger and she hadn’t even been aware of it.
After making it to the shower, she stepped in and let the hot spray wake her up. The hangover wasn’t too bad; she was more tired than anything. Coffee would be the first priority after she got dressed.
As she dropped off the key, the desk clerk looked at her as if the young man knew what
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