At almost the same time she realized she was lying face down on something warm. It smelled good, and it was so comfortable she didn"t want to move even though her mouth tasted like a dead bird rotting in the Sahara Desert. What had she been drinking last night? Oh yeah. Memory hit her the same moment she became aware of long fingers stroking the side of her neck. “You!” she said in tones of loathing. Only, her voice didn"t sound right. It came out more like a pained croak. She tried to push herself off his chest. She left drool behind, just over his nipple. Somebody should have slapped her when she had let him carry her to his tent last night. Jill was in big trouble. “Good morning, darling,” he said tenderly, trying to smooth her wild hair back. She slapped at his hand. “Don"t call me that.” Why was his hair perfect? Why was all of him so damn perfect? “Sweetheart?” he tried. “No.” “Love? Baby?” “NO!” Oh, God, had her head just exploded? Glory forced herself to her feet and stumbled to the door flap, leaving him smiling at her from the blanket.
