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worse.”
    I breathe through my mouth to lessen the pain. Sometimes that helps. “There’s a bottle of Dewar’s in the credenza behind you. Top shelf. Glasses too. Pour me a finger of the scotch so I can get these down.”
    She doesn’t jump to it, but stands there, like a mummy. “Are you supposed to be drinking alcohol with that medication?”
    “Probably not.”
    “Water would be better.”
    “Just get me the scotch.”
    Her clothes swish, something slides open. The credenza. She returns and hands me a glass.
    I slip the pills into my mouth, knock them back with the scotch. Except it isn’t. “Damn it. It’s water.”
    “Yes, it is.” Butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.
    I wave my hand at her. “You can leave now.”
    “I don’t think that’s a good idea. You just took three pain pills which might make it difficult for you to find your way. Let me help you to your room.”
    “No. Get Moseley.”
    “Moseley’s gone to bed.”
    “How do you know?”
    “Because I woke him up to get your pills.”
    Damn it. I don’t want her to see me in this state. Weak. In pain. Stumbling about in the dark. For the first time, I stand up in her presence. “I can get myself to my room.”
    “With all due respect, Mr. MacKay, you can’t. The pills are bound to make you woozy. What if you fall and hurt yourself going up the stairs?”
    “I can do it.” Rounding the desk, I stumble against it, knocking something over. “What was that?”
    “The glass. Don’t worry. It’s only water.”
    I take a step or try to anyway. What happened to my knees? They’re wobbly at best.
    “Here.” She wraps an arm around my waist and props me against her side.
    I snort but instantly regret it when a sharp pain stabs the inside of my head. Breathing through my mouth, I snap at her. “You’re going to hold me up? How do you figure that? You’re a tiny little thing.” The top of her head barely reaches my shoulder.
    “I’m stronger than I look.”
    With me leaning on her more than I should, we wobble our way down the corridor, not once bumping into a thing.
    When we reach the stairway, she prompts. “Okay, take a step.” I do only to stumble back, taking her with me. Damn it. The pain pills kicked in, and my head’s swirling. Should have waited until I reached my room to toss them back.
    She firms her arm around my middle. “Try again.”
    I do, this time with success.
    “One. Two. Three.”
    “What are you doing?”
    “Counting steps.”
    “Why?”
    “So you’ll know how many are left.”
    How does she know I do that?
    “Eight, nine, ten.”
    Maybe it’s the pills. Maybe it’s the situation. But something about what she’s doing strikes me as hilarious, so I join in the fun. “Fifteen, seventeen, twenty-one.”
    She blows out a breath. “Stop that. Darn it. Now you’ve made me lose count.” She grips my waist even tighter. She’s got to be tired. I’m not only several inches taller than her but weigh more. “Seven.”
    “I thought we were up to thirteen.”
    “I’m counting down. Five. Four.”
    I let her do her thing until we reach the top step. And then in fits and starts we make our way to my room where she drops me on the bed.
    “Should I ring your valet?”
    “You can’t. It’s his off night.”
    For a beat, she doesn’t say anything, probably trying to decide whether she should abandon me to my own devices. “Okay. Well, let me help you with your shoes then.”
    I can’t help but be enchanted by her concern for me. She’s trying so hard to be helpful. “They’re moccasins. I can manage them.” To prove my point, I toe them off.
    “So. Ummm. Where do you keep your pajamas?”
    I grin like a fool. “Don’t have any. I sleep in the nude.”
    “Oh.”
    Wish I could see the color of her cheeks. I bet she’s blushing. But as much as I’m enjoying this, it’s time to put an end to this interlude. She’s done enough for me. “Goodnight, Ms. Bennett.”
    “Are you sure you can . . .