‘Well, I didn’t mean literally. I’m just not used to finding strange men flaked out of the sofa. Has he been there all night?’
‘Since about three,’ Stacy confirmed.
‘And you’ve been sitting up with him all night.’ Sandy indicated Stacy’s crumpled jeans and jumper.
‘I dozed in the chair a bit. But I couldn’t just leave him there, he could have wandered into any of your rooms.’
Sandy smiled. ‘I don’t think any of us would have minded. I know I wouldn’t.’
‘Maybe that’s what I was afraid of,’ Stacy said dryly.
Sandy stood up. ‘I’m going back to bed.’ She refilled her mug with coffee. ‘Your author was beginning to wake, by the way. I caught a glimpse of deep blue eyes through those marvellous long lashes.’
‘Oh God!’ Stacy jumped to her feet. ‘Why didn’t you tell me earlier?’ she demanded angrily.
Sandy shrugged. ‘He was only just beginning to move. Besides, he doesn’t look as if he would get very far.’
‘You’re probably right.’ Stacy remembered Jake’s inebriated state of last night and imagined he must have quite a hangover this morning.
By the time the two of them entered the lounge Jake had managed to pull himself into a sitting position, his eyes still half-closed as if in pain. Stacy had removed his shoes the night before and placed a blanket over him, although this had since been pushed off.
‘Good morning,’ Sandy called to him goodnaturedly.
‘Hi.’ Jake grimaced at the effort just this little word took, raising his hand to his aching temples. ‘God, my head hurts!’
Sandy grinned before going into her bedroom and closing the door. Stacy looked at Jake uncertainly. She seemed to have done nothing else but look at him all night, feasting her eyes on him as he slept.
‘I’m not surprised,’ she said unsympathetically.
He blinked to clear his vision, slipping out of his crumpled jacket and releasing his bow-tie. ‘I could use some coffee,’ he mumbled.
Stacy pointedly sat down, her legs tucked beneath her in the chair. ‘The kitchen is over there,’ she said callously, her chin high as she determined not to look at him.
He ran a hand round the back of his stiff neck, a dark growth of beard on his chin. ‘You won’t get me some?’
‘I’m not a servant!’
‘All right.’ He stood up wearily, his clothes very creased from his night’s sleep in them. ‘Over there, you said?’
‘Yes,’ she said tight-lipped.
She could hear him opening and shutting cupboards as he looked for the coffee and a cup to put it in. She felt herself weakening towards him as she heard him swearing softly to himself, feeling guilty as he continued to mutter.
He appeared to have got no further than putting the kettle on by the time Stacy got out there and, pushing him out of the way, she made two fresh cups of coffee. It seemed to be the only thing that was keeping her awake at the moment. She had started to drift off to sleep about six o’clock but had been woken up again when Helen and Sheila came in from their party.
‘Thanks.’ Jake took a huge gulp of the strong brew. ‘I guess I must have passed out on you last night.’
‘You guess right.’ Stacy carried her own drink through to the lounge and sat down again.
Jake followed her, obviously feeling slightly better after drinking the reviving coffee. ‘You aren’t in a good mood when you wake up.’
Her green eyes flashed like emer
alds. She was well aware of the picture she must make with her hair tied back untidily and the dark circles around her eyes in her pale face. ‘When I wake up I’m usually in a good mood,’ she told him sharply. ‘I don’t happen to have just woken up, I’ve been awake most of the night.’
‘You have?’ He raised dark eyebrows. ‘I slept very well.’
She gave him an angry glare. ‘Mainly because you were unconscious for most of it!’