Love Loyal and True (Must Love Diamonds 2)

“I’m not that drunk.”

He scoffed. “Yes you are, otherwise you would have tossed me out the moment I set the basket down.” Especially if she’d been able to read his mind on what he wanted to do to her. With her. It would shock the hell out of her…like it did him.

“You think I’m so drunk and lonely, I’d have dragged any man who showed up at my door with presents into the bedroom?”

Would she have?

He was astonished all over again to realize it disturbed him that she might have. It bothered him she might be lonely enough that any man would do.

And yet the alternative wasn’t any better, was it? She hadn’t dragged him to the bedroom, but she had practically begged him to stay.

What was it she’d said…help me sleep you off.

As if she needed to get over him like she needed to get over being drunk. But that couldn’t be. She hated him. She’d even said so before he kissed her. The alcohol should make her more truthful, right?

Confusion swirled as his body urged him to do one thing while his mind emphatically ordered the opposite.

Before he could decide, Roxanna went from holding him close to shoving him away.

“Get out.” Then she rolled over and crawled up to the pillows at the head of the bed. As she fumbled to get beneath the covers, she grumbled, “I don’t need a jerk like you in my life. No one does—which is probably why both your fiancés left you. The second one wised up just in the nick of time.”

Her words struck a raw nerve deep inside. His jaw clenched as he glared at her from beside the bed. “You don’t have a fucking clue what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, but I do. I know all about you, Loyal Diamond.” She smirked at him as she dragged the second pillow into her arms. “Maybe if you weren’t so uptight and judgmental, a woman might actually like you.”

He’d dated since his last fiancé. In Texas—and here—there were more than enough women who wanted him. Like Merit, he never lacked for female companionship when he wanted it, he just didn’t flaunt it like his younger brother.

“Plenty of women like me, Roxanna.”

“If you’re any good in bed, I’m sure they do.”

If?

“But looks and sex and money’ll only get you so far.” Lying on her side, she hugged the pillow to her chest and closed her eyes. “You gotta be worthy of what the other person gives you, and you aren’t worthy of much.”

She was getting awfully deep for a person who hadn’t been able to get her numbers to add up when she was sober. Problem was, she was hitting a little too close to home, making him leery of that psychic shit again.

He took a breath to argue, but then pressed his lips together when he realized she was out cold, just that fast. Damn woman hit him with a poison-tipped barb and then went right to sleep without a care in the world.

As he spun on his heel and strode from the room, he justified that right there was part of why he’d been mean to her over the years. Because she was so damn good at being mean right back.

Chapter 8

Roxanna rolled over, then let out a low moan as her head protested the movement. God, her mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and she was all hot and sweaty. She listlessly pushed the covers down and pulled out her arm to rest over her aching forehead. Last thing she clearly recalled was her frustration with her accounting program before coming upstairs with a bottle of wine.

Then things got fuzzy.

She had a vague memory of Loyal inside the apartment, but that didn’t make sense, because she’d specifically checked to make sure he’d left.

Her mind strayed back to the word accounting, and her eyes popped open. She had to open the shop.

“Shit!”

Panic had her scrambling to get out of bed, but her legs tangled in the sheets. As pain hammered at her head, she realized part of the problem was she was still wearing her long skirt. Man, she must’ve really been out of it to crawl into bed with all her clothes on.

The struggle to free herself only magnified her headache, so she took a breath to calm down and squinted at the digital clock on the night stand. Relief eased her alarm when she saw it was twenty minutes after eight a.m. She didn’t open until nine, so she had time—even if it wasn’t much considering she needed to shower and pick out clean clothes off her clearance rack downstairs.

Moving more slowly, she managed to untangle her legs and sat on the edge of the bed. Her boots were set side by side in front of the nightstand, and she had a flash image of Loyal kneeling at her feet to take them off.