She tried to drown those unmerciful drummers under the shower, then bit down on her lip when she realized the new sound she heard was her own whimpering.
Under normal circumstances she would never have gone through any of Michael's things, but she finished up a fumbling search through the mirrored medicine cabinet and bathroom drawers and nearly wept when she found a bottle of aspirin.
She took four, another break in tradition; then, deciding she couldn't be much more intrusive, used his toothbrush.
She didn't look in the mirror until she'd dressed, and even then it was a mistake. Her face was deathly pale, her eyes smudged and swollen. And as she didn't have so much as a tube of lipstick with her, there was nothing she could do about it.
Knowing she had to get it over with, she stepped outside and moaned quietly as the sunlight sent hot little spears into her eyes. Her head didn't feel like the practice field for a marching band now; now it felt like glass. Very thin, very fragile glass. And it was balanced precariously on her neck.
"How's it going, sugar?"
She winced, jerked. Her head fell off, smashed on the steps at her feet. Thank God she had another one. She turned it, struggled to smile as Michael dusted his hands on his hips and walked toward her.
"Good morning. I'm sorry I didn't hear you get up."
"The way you were sawing them off, I figured you'd sleep till noon."
The insult of the headache faded. Snore? She certainly did not snore. She wouldn't dignify such a lie with a comment. "I have to be at the shop in a couple of hours."
"You're working today?" She didn't look to be in any shape for it to him. "Give yourself a break, Laura, and go crawl back into bed."
"Saturdays are our busiest day."
He shrugged his shoulders. Her choice. "How's the head?"
"Which one?" Now she did smile, a little. Certainly a man like Michael would understand hangovers. "It's bad, but no longer unbearable."
"Next time you go on a bender, chug plenty of water and pop a couple aspirin before you pass out. It usually helps take the edge off the morning after."
"I don't intend to have a next time, but thanks."
"Now that might be a shame." He trailed a finger over the back of her hand. "You make a very inventive drunk. How's the memory?"
Her blood must have been moving still, for she felt it rise up to sting her cheeks. "It's good. A little too good. I certainly wouldn't have—I can't believe that I—" She shut up, closed her eyes. "You can stop me anytime from making a total fool of myself."
"I kinda like it. Come here." He drew her against him, cradling her aching head on his shoulder. "Ice water," he murmured. "Stick your face right into a bowl of ice water, try to get some food in your system, then you just have to tough out the rest of it."
"Okay." She'd have preferred just staying there for the rest of her life. "I have to go. I shouldn't have slept here last night." With her face pressed against him she didn't see the disappointment and the hurt shadow his. "I can't imagine what everyone will think."
"Right." His eyes were impassive again when he drew her away. "You go on and shore up the damage to the Templeton name."
>
"I didn't mean—"
"Forget it." He wasn't going to let it touch him. "Forget it," he repeated. "Why don't you go riding with me tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow?'' She pressed her fingers to her eyes. If she didn't get them out of the sun soon they were going to implode. "We have the treasure hunt."
"We'll go in the morning. You'll be back for Seraphina."
Riding. It had been years since she'd ridden in the hills, through the forest. "All right. I'd love it. Can we go about eight? That way I can—"
"Sure, eight." He gave her a quick pat on the cheek before walking away. "Don't forget the ice water."
"No, I—" But he had already disappeared around the side of the building. Baffled by his rapid shift of mood, she considered following him. Then she looked at her watch and accepted the reality that her obligations for the day didn't allow time to puzzle out the enigma of Michael Fury.
No one asked questions, demanded answers, or voiced disapproval. When Laura tucked her children into bed that night, she realized she had gotten through the entire day without having anyone question her absence from her own bed.