He stood her at the sink and handed her a few capfuls of mouthwash.
She rinsed her mouth out thoroughly. “I hate the taste of puke.” She scrunched up her nose.
Darian grinned, flushed the toilet, closed the lid, and sat her on top. “Are you steady so I can start the shower?”
Instead of answering, Larkin leaned over toward the counter, put her arm on top, and laid her head on her elbow. “Who’s taking a shower?”
He grinned. “We both are. You have vomit in your hair and down your dress.”
Darian quickly turned on the shower and shed all his clothes except for his boxers. He then started on her clothes, which didn’t consist of much. The dress she wore was slinky and red and hit several inches above her knees. After he pulled that off, she was down to barely-there panties.
His eyes scanned over her. She was perfection. She wasn’t stick-thin but had nice, rounded hips, a tiny waist, and her breasts, he predicted, were a handful for him but looked firm.
Darian gritted his teeth as he felt a drop of sweat roll down his back. “Let’s get you in the shower, and we’ll get that vomit out of your hair.”
She raised her arms to him with a trusting look in her expression that made his heart swell. He lifted her effortlessly and stepped into the shower.
First, he washed her hair with the shampoo and conditioner he used. He knew she probably needed more product, but that was all he had on hand. It hadn’t been easy, but he washed her thoroughly while holding her up with a hand on her arm.
As he turned off the water, she started to sway. He quickly wrapped a towel around her and sat her back on the toilet lid again. He grabbed another towel and squeezed the moisture out of her hair.
Darian tossed the towel and picked her up when her eyes started to droop. He deemed her hair was dry enough. It would take several more minutes with a blow-dryer to get her thick hair dry, but she didn’t seem to have the energy.
He set her on the bed. Then he whipped the comforter and blanket to the side and slid her in. After he quickly changed out of his wet boxers, he put dry ones on, sat beside her hips with one of his shirts, and managed to get her into it and close several buttons.
She was out. He knew it was for the best. She needed her sleep, but he had so many questions he wanted to ask her. Being patient was something he wasn’t familiar with, but he’d have to wait.
He turned off the lights except for the ones in the bathrooms. That way, he could see her, and if she woke up, she wouldn’t be so disoriented.
A long hour later, Darian still had her tucked against his side and was staring up at the ceiling. His mind whipped from one scenario to another, but they all had to do with keeping her. He’d looked for someone like her for years. He thought it a bit ironic that she would practically fall into his lap when he had pretty much given up finding her.
Darian still had several questions before he would make any definite plans.
In the meantime, he’d hold her close and enjoy the warmth and the silkiness of her skin.
Chapter Three
Larkin awoke when the first rays of sun crept through the drapes. She squinted at the brightness and tried to shield her eyes. She raised a hand to her achy head and pressed on her temple, where it throbbed. Why does my head hurt so much?
The first thing she noti
ced was the different colors of the walls. In her apartment, the paint was an off-white, but it just looked dirty to her. Wherever she was, the walls were a soft blue-gray, and she liked it better.
The next thing she noticed was that she was draped over a warm, muscular body. The hair on his chest told her it was male, and she didn’t know if she should feel relieved or not. She carefully scooted herself up and looked down at the man.
He was very handsome. His features were even, and she admired how square his jaw was. He had a dark complexion, like he was Italian or Mexican. It was hard to tell. She wanted to see what color eyes he had, but then he’d have to be awake, and she wasn’t sure she wanted that.
She watched his chest rise and fall as he slept deeply. She didn’t know what the protocol was for the morning after. It didn’t matter if she didn’t remember the night before very well. Deciding her best bet was grabbing her clothes, she slipped out before he awoke.
Larkin slid carefully out from under his arm. She tiptoed to the bathroom and closed the door. Then she took off the man’s shirt, startled that she was naked, although she figured if she was in a man’s bed, they’d probably had sex. She looked in the mirror, thinking she’d feel or look different and was disappointed when she looked the same.
She pulled on the dress she’d worn the night before, wrinkling her nose at the smell. Then she put the man’s shirt back on and tied it in a knot at her waist. She knew it was probably considered stealing, but she didn’t want to go out in the street in just her dress.
She quietly opened the bathroom door and spied her shoes by the bed. After she snatched up, she found her way through the large condo to the elevator. She knew right away she’d have to have a code to use the elevator, so she looked around for the stairs.
Larkin found them behind a door that she hadn’t caught it because it blended into the wall. She held tight to the stair rail with both hands and took one step at a time, letting her shoes bang against the metal. She knew not to put on her shoes because she was still unsteady and would most likely break her neck.
Long minutes later, Larkin tired. She hadn’t realized how far up they were, and she was glad she had to go down instead of up because she knew she wouldn’t have made it. Finally, she pushed through the first door that was unlocked and stood in a large, expensive-looking lobby.