New York, Actually (From Manhattan with Love 4)

“I’m not leaving.”

“If you’re hoping for more juicy gossip, I’m not talking.” Her voice was muffled and Daniel shook his head and made straight for the kitchen.

“You need strong coffee.”

“I don’t want coffee. I want more champagne. It was delicious. It made all my problems seem lighter. Fizzier. Floatier. Is that a word? If it isn’t, it should be.” She rolled onto her side and closed her eyes. Valentine trotted up to her and nudged her hip.

When she didn’t move, the dog sent Daniel a worried look.

“Yeah, I’m dealing with it. I’ve got this, buddy.” Daniel made coffee and took it across to her. Valentine sprawled like a sentinel next to the sofa and Daniel moved Molly’s legs and sat down. “Drink this.”

“I never drink coffee after two o’clock. It keeps me awake.”

“I want you awake. I want you to talk to me.”

“Too tired.” Her eyes remained closed. “I’ve told you. No more gory details. It’s like feeding the piranhas. Whatever you throw at them it’s never quite enough. They’re not happy until they’ve stripped off all your flesh.”

From what he’d read, it was a good analogy.

“I’m not a piranha. I’m a friend. I want facts.”

Her eyes opened. “I thought you’d already looked me up?”

“We both know that what gets reported isn’t necessarily the facts.”

“It’s all true. I’m Molly the Man-eater. The Black Widow without the hairy legs. Most men would rather swim with a great white shark than date me. But you were warned. I warned you, and you ignored the warning so now I’m probably going to bite you in half or sting you with my scorpion tail—or something.” She rolled onto her back, one arm flopping over the edge of the sofa.

Valentine was on his feet instantly, licking her hand, trying to persuade her to sit up.

Daniel thought to himself that if humans were as devoted as dogs, life would be a lot smoother and calmer. “I ignored the warning because I didn’t care about any of that.” He reached out and stroked Valentine’s head, reassuring him. “You can sit down, boy. She’s going to be okay.”

Valentine didn’t budge. He nudged at Molly’s chest, encouraging her to sit up, but she didn’t.

“It’s okay, D

aniel,” she said, and flung her forearm over her eyes, “you can take your heart, and your humor, and your superior bedroom skills and put them somewhere safe.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Sit up and drink this coffee.”

“I can’t sit up. The world is moving. If I sit up, I’ll fall off the edge.” She gave a moan and Valentine whined, too, looking at Daniel as if to say it was time someone did something.

“Sit up. You’re scaring your dog.” Daniel pushed aside a stack of books and put the coffee on the table. Then he stood up and scooped Molly into his arms. She flopped like a rag doll.

Valentine stood up, his tail wagging with approval. Molly didn’t share the sentiment.

“What are you doing? Where are we going? Can you stop moving? I’m getting motion sickness.”

“I’m going to sober you up.”

“I don’t want to be sobered up. I like myself just the way I am. Fizzy. I was anxious about what you might do, and now I’m not so anxious. I’m anesthetized.”

Hating the fact that he’d made her anxious, he walked to the bathroom and lowered her carefully to the floor.

“Stand there and don’t move.”

“I can’t promise. My legs aren’t doing what I want them to. Why are we in my bathroom? Is this another excuse to get me naked?”

“I don’t need an excuse for that.” He slid the crisscross straps off her shoulders and let the dress slither to the floor.