Rake (Wolfes of Manhattan 4)

Nieves met my gaze. “The only thing puzzling is why we’re not hitting the sheets yet.”

I smiled—that devilish grin that no lady could resist. “Oh, we will. But I find anticipation makes it even better.” I signaled the barkeep. “Another for the lady.”

The still-blushing bartender slid another dirty martini in front of Nieves. She daintily took a sip.

“How did Leta know that Rock had left Montana?” I asked.

Nieves kicked off one of her stilettos and slid her bare foot underneath my pants, rubbing her toes against my ankle. “I don’t know.”

Oddly, I wasn’t getting turned on. I still enjoyed a woman who was a challenge, and Nieves Romero clearly didn’t fall into that category. Partially my fault. I’d gotten her drunk. Alcohol, the great social lubricant. Not that Nieves needed any lubricant. Of any kind.

But Nieves hadn’t been a challenge back in Manhattan either, and I’d been sloppy seconds after she couldn’t seduce Rock away from Lacey.

That night, I hadn’t cared. I’d been horny, and she’d been available.

Tonight, though? She wasn’t appealing to me.

Damn Rock and his ill-timed phone call. If I hadn’t answered, I’d be doing the horizontal tango with Ms. Romero right now.

Instead, I’d gotten her too drunk too quickly, and now she wasn’t going to be any good to me.

“Nieves,” I said.

“What?” Then she burst into giggles. “You have four eyes.”

Her remark puzzled me. I wasn’t wearing my glasses.

Her next gesture removed any puzzlement. She poked at my forehead. “One, two, three, four.” Then she blinked incessantly for a few seconds and then widened her eyes. “Nope. Still four.”

Was she too drunk now to give me any helpful information?

What a lightweight. Four drinks? Really?

Except she probably weighed half of what I did.

I signaled the barkeep again, rising to speak to him privately. “How much booze did you put in her drinks?”

“They were doubles,” he said.

“Doubles? Are you freaking kidding me?”

“That’s what she ordered when she got here.”

Shit. He was right. Nieves had arrived at the bar before I did, and she’d ordered my first scotch.

Nieves had drunk the equivalent of eight drinks while I was fake drinking my second. Four drinks would have put her right where I wanted her.

Eight? She was a hair away from passing out.

I returned to my stool and sat down.

“I don’t feel so good, Rock,” Nieves said.

“Reid,” I said, taking a good look at her. “You look a little green.”

She laughed hysterically. “I think I’m going to puke on you later!”

Great. Just great. I threw some bills on the wooden bar. “That’s your tip. Put the drinks on my tab. Reid Wolfe.”

The bartender’s eyebrows flew up. “Reid Wolfe? Who owns this place?”

“That’s the one.” Then I lifted Nieves off her stool, carried her out of the bar toward the elevators.

She closed her eyes and let out a soft snore.

So much for my quick fuck.

I’d never taken an incapacitated woman to bed, and I wasn’t going to start now. Still, she’d said she was staying with me. Did she have a room somewhere? A small purse dangled from her wrist. Once I got her to my suite, I’d take a look through it for a hotel key.

The elevator dinged and the double doors parted.

And there stood my brother Roy with his new wife, Charlie.

Fuck it all.

7

Zee

My eyes darted open.

Where was I?

Right. My hotel in Queens.

Except…

My bed was a full-sized, and this bed…

This bed was narrow. Like a cot. The mattress was thin, and—

I jerked upward.

Darkness surrounded me. There was a window in my room. Where was it? It must still be nighttime.

I waited for my eyes to adjust.

And my whole body turned prickly.

This wasn’t my room.

And then the hammering in my head began.

Or became more pronounced, because it had been there since I woke up.

A nauseating headache. Was this what a migraine felt like? I’d never had one. But this pounding was on both sides of my head, not just one. In fact, it was all over my head, behind my eyes, on the crown, at the back of my neck.

A jackhammer.

Pounding so quickly I couldn’t get a grasp on the speed. Like a hummingbird’s heartbeat, only loud and obnoxious and pulsating through my body, landing in my gut.

Crap.

Literally.

I had to go to the bathroom. I stood. The bathroom was…

I stumbled, trying to orient myself. The bathroom was to the right.

Except all I saw to the right was a wall. This room was small.

Really small.

Where was the door?

I walked the small room blindly, feeling at the walls to support myself. I could pass out at any moment. My stomach was gurgling, my head hammering.

My heart stampeding.

Finally, something hit me in the belly.

“Ouch!” I reached down and touched my bare skin.

Then my fright increased a hundredfold.

I was naked.

I’d gone to bed in a T-shirt and panties. Hadn’t I? My mind was so muddled I didn’t trust my thoughts.