See Jane Love - By Debby Conrad Page 0,12

body around so she was lying sideways, she placed the second one on the floor. Good, she thought. Both feet were on the floor. It was a start, at least. Now, all she had to do was lift her head, shoulders and hips from the mattress, crawl to the window, and jump.

Sucking in a huge breath for strength, she leaned on her elbows and pushed, but her head only made it about two inches off the mattress before crashing back into place. Moaning softly, she decided it was no use. And it would be worthless shouting to the neighbors for help because she didn’t have the energy to do that either.

She was a toasted marshmallow for sure. She just prayed it would be a quick and painless death. Although she hadn’t seen any flames, nor had she smelled any smoke. And she noticed whatever had been making all that noise had finally stopped. Blessed silence, at last. It must have been a false alarm.

“You’re awake.” A man’s voice echoed into the room and throbbed against her brain. Gabe was still here? His deep, sexy baritone held a rasp of excitement. Only right now, he could be standing there bare-ass naked, and she wouldn’t find him any more exciting than a dust bunny.

Okay, so maybe she was lying. Just thinking about him naked got her excited. God only knew how she’d react if she actually saw him in the nude. Fat chance of that happening, she thought, remembering how he’d turned her down last night.

“Your sister just called to see if you were still breathing. She also left three messages on your answering machine this morning.”

“Is that what that noise was? I thought the building was on fire.” Carefully, she angled her head to the side for a better view of the man standing in her bedroom doorway.

The first thing she noticed was his mouth, grinning at her. Remembering those lips and the way they’d possessed her last night made her salivate.

Knowing it was extremely dangerous to stare at his mouth--no telling what she might say--she dropped her gaze. Apparently he hadn’t stayed all night, because he’d changed his clothes. Today’s blue jeans were a rich indigo and his T-shirt was white. He looked freshly showered and shaved, too. While here she lay, with mascara-crusted cheeks and matted hair, wearing last night’s skirt wrapped around her waist.

Yikes! she thought, tugging at the khaki material. But it was no use. Not only were her fingers clumsy and awkward, but her hips felt like lead balloons. There was no way she could lift them to pull her skirt down.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, groping for the sheet and pulling it over her hips and thighs.

“I wanted to make sure you were all right. And last night I noticed you didn’t have anything in the way of a hangover remedy, so I did a little shopping for you.”

Bless this man, she said silently, looking up at the ceiling. “Well, as you can see, I’m just peachy,” she lied, forcing a brilliant smile. “In fact, I was thinking about jogging.”

“Uh, huh,” he muttered, as if he didn’t believe her. Entering the bedroom, he treaded carefully across the room, occasionally stopping to pick up a piece of clothing or a shoe in his path. Then, he did the unspeakable.

He opened the blinds.

Jane squeezed her eyes shut against the morning brightness. “Did you have to do that?”

“Yes. The sooner you get up and get moving, the sooner you’re going to start feeling human again.” She heard her dresser drawers being opened and shut, and then his voice boomed out again. “I grabbed some clean clothes for you. After your shower, you’ll feel a little better.”

Peeking out of one eye, she saw a pair of denim shorts, a red tank top and a pair of pink bikini panties tucked under his arm.

“Go away,” she said, closing her eye again. She figured all she had to do was wait a minute or two and then he’d probably get the hint and leave. But when she opened her eyes a few moments later, he was still there. He must be deaf, she thought.

“Come on, Cinderella. Let’s turn you into a princess.”

“Oh, so that’s why you’re here! You’re my fairy godmother.”

He chuckled. “Sure, whatever. It’s your fantasy.”

Rather than fight when she felt herself being lifted, Janie merely wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head against his shoulder. He smelled clean, like soap and toothpaste, while she