Nothing hurt, and she passed out. Her dreams were filled with a guardian, standing watch, protecting her. She wanted to punch and tell the guardian she could take care of herself. Yet there was something soft and right about it. Anger rolled off the guardian in heavy waves, but instinct said it wasn’t directed at her. Sunlight pierced her sleep, and she groaned, wondering how she managed to get the world’s worst hangover without alcohol. Rolling onto her back, the previous night’s adventures came back with crystal clarity. A moan escaped, and a big hand slid beneath her shoulders, carefully lifting her into a sitting position. “Easy, Katie,” Houston’s deep voice whispered. Once stable, he sat on the edge of the bed, arms on either side of her hips. “I made an appointment at your doc’s this morning. He wants to follow up today.” “Houston,” she licked her lips, “it’s Saturday.” “I told him why and he’s waiting.”
