Chapter Five

Willow

My eyes flutter open, and I sit up quickly.

Big mistake. My head is pounding and the movement just made it worse!

I close my eyes again. I give it about a minute and then slowly open them once more, trying to get my wits about me.

I'm in a hotel bed, which makes sense. The hotel was on the same grounds as the restaurant and event center where we had the rehearsal dinner. Did I somehow stagger back to my room? No. Now I remember. I was with Mom and Dad. They would never let me go off by myself after passing out, even if I was awake and able to walk.

Someone helped me here.

But where is here?

I look around some more. Light is filtering through the window, even though the curtains are drawn. My mind races back to those last moments I remember.

It was nighttime. As in full-on night. Meaning…I've been asleep for a long time! I look around frantically. My phone is on the nightstand. I reach for it and check the lockscreen's clock.

Oh crap! The wedding is in an hour and a half!

I've got to get ready! Where's my stuff though? This kind of looks like my room but it's definitely not my room.

A scent reaches my nose, and it doesn't take me long to realize its cologne. It isn't overpowering, but it's there. I recognize it. Surely I'm not in his room!

A moment later, James Bond appears in the doorway. At least, he looks like James Bond. Handsome, suave, and dashing in his tux.

But when he speaks, his voice is more Oklahoma than England.

"Good morning," he says. "Are you okay."

Shawn moves closer and sits on the edge of the bed—so close to me that he could easily reach out and touch me, if he wanted—and smiles as he peers into my eyes.

I blush. But then I feel foolish, realizing he isn't gazing into them lovingly. He's examining me. That makes sense, being as how he's a doctor.

"I'm…fine. But I have to go!" I say. "I need to get my hair done—"

"The stylist is waiting for you. She's not going anywhere. We've explained the situation."

I try to get up but groan, falling back against the pillow.

"Your head hurts?"

"Yeah."

He chuckles. "Just a hangover. You'll be fine. I'll get you some pain medicine here in a moment. Not prescription strength. Just over-the-counter."

"Am I okay then?" I ask.

His smile grows. I see sympathy in his dark eyes.

Sympathy and sexiness.

Even in the rough shape I'm in, my panties are dampening by the second. Just being close to Shawn has that effect on me.

"You're just fine," he says.

"But last night…I remember feeling so hot! Was it just…you know…the summer heat?"

"No," he says, shaking his head. "You were drinking faster than your body could metabolize the alcohol. It caused too much acetaldehyde to build up, triggering a histamine release. It's unpleasant but not overly dangerous, if a person stops drinking when it comes on. Which you did." His smile fades and he levels a very pointed gaze at me when he adds, "But you need to be careful. Don't drink like that again."

"You like to boss me around, huh?" I say.

He stands and shrugs. "Are you a doctor?"

"No."

"Am I?"

"Yeah."

"So, odds are I'm the one in this room who knows what he's talking about when it comes to this stuff. You'd be smart to listen, little girl."

I can tell from the look on his face that he regrets saying that last part. There are no takebacks, though. He called me little girl. That only made my panties even wetter. It caused butterflies to dance inside my stomach, too.

I can't think about it right now, though. I have to get out of here and get ready.

I start to get up again.

"Hold on," he says. "Let me get you some pain reliever."

I watch him go back through the doorway, into the suite's sitting area.

"Did I take your bed?" I ask loudly.

"No worries," he calls back. "The couch has a pullout bed."

He returns with two pills and a glass of water.

"Take these," he says, handing the medicine to me. He gives me the water, too, and I swallow the pills. "Should kick in soon. Until then, are you good to go?"

"I have to," I say.

He shakes his head. "Your safety and health are more important than anything else."

"Not more important than my sister's wedding!" I say.

He watches me get to my feet and take a few steps. I guess he's satisfied by how steady I am because he nods.

"I'm sorry you had to sleep on that sofa bed thing," I say. "It can't be comfortable."

"It's fine," he says. "Like I said, the most important thing is that you're alright."

"Why did I end up in your room?" I ask.

Not that I mind. This is exactly where I wanted to end up! Just not like this, obviously.

"Everyone agreed they'd feel better if you had medical care if needed. So, what better room to crash in than the doctor's?" He winks.

I giggle again, just like I remember doing last night when in his intoxicating presence. I quickly avert my eyes. I've already made a big enough fool out of myself. Gosh, I'm never going to live this down.

"Thank you," I say. "For everything."

He nods. "I recommend no drinking at the reception. If you do, one glass of champagne. Max."

"I think I'll stick with something nonalcoholic today."

He smiles. "Good girl."

Did he really just say that?

My panties are drenched.

Absolutely drenched.