With Mirry in her arms, she walked into the bedroom. Cadde didn’t stir. His breathing was heavy and there was a faint scent of Scotch in the room. Placing Mirry in her bed, Jessie flicked off the light and waited. Still he didn’t move.
Frowning, she moved as quietly as possible to the left side. Cadde had most of the ecru sheet wrapped around him. The room was cool from the air-conditioning and she needed something to cover herself. Grabbing the peach comforter from a chair, she spread it out and eased beneath it.
How was she going to sleep here? It wasn’t natural to her. She turned onto her right, hoping to get comfortable. It didn’t work. She heard a whine and looked down. Mirry stood on her hind legs, her paws on the mattress. The poor thing was confused because Jessie wasn’t sleeping in her normal spot near Mirry’s bed.
Jessie scooped her in beside her and tried to get some sleep. And she must have. When she awoke she knew it was morning even though it was still dark. She pushed hair away from her face and sat up to look at the clock on her nightstand. The light was on in her bathroom and she could see clearly. Five o’clock.
Cadde was still sleeping, inches from her in the king-size bed. His brown hair fell across his forehead and she wanted to smooth it back, to feel his skin and…shock him out of his mind probably. Enough time for that later. At present he was going to have a gigantic headache.
Unable to resist, she studied his features. Dark eyebrows feathered away from his eyes, not too thick or thin, just manly. His eyelashes were long and sexy for a man, and his straight nose and curved lips were, again, sexy for a man. Dark stubble covered the lower part of his face. Her stomach quivered in awareness.
Handsome was too generic of a word to describe him. Damn pulse-throbbing good-looking suited him better and she could just imagine the hearts he’d broken over the years.
And she was dawdling. She didn’t want him to catch her staring at him. Easing from the bed with Mirry in her arms, she noticed the Scotch bottle on the nightstand. She grabbed it, not wanting Rosa to find it. Rosa had a thing about drinking. She’d given her father a few lectures on the subject. Once he’d fired her, but Rosa wouldn’t budge.
She’d said she wasn’t leaving Jessie in the hands of a drunk and slammed the door in his face. Her father chomped on his cigar until it almost disappeared. He never again drank in front of Jessie or Rosa, though. He did that in his study or at the apartment at Shilah. It was the only time she’d ever seen her father make a concession to another human being. But he knew Rosa would take care of Jessie if anything happened to him.
Quickly dressing in jeans and a T-shirt, she headed downstairs with the bottle. Looking down, she noticed Mirry wasn’t there. She glanced back to see her curled up in her bed. Too early for Mirry, she thought.
And for her. Oh, God. She needed coffee.
Not knowing what else to do with the evidence, she put it back in the liquor cabinet. But it made her think. Did Cadde drink a lot? He’d had wine at dinner and then almost killed a bottle of Scotch. He was an astute businessman and that thinking wasn’t fueled by liquor. Maybe she’d made him imbibe. Now there was a sobering thought.
She went into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. Rosa had it set to come on at six. How did she change the damn thing? She studied the control panel. “Miss Jessie…”
Jessie almost jumped out of her skin at Rosa’s voice. She thought she was still sleeping.
With a hand to her chest, she said, “You scared the life out of me.”
“What are you doing up so early?” Rosa walked to the coffee machine, poked a couple of buttons and it came on. Since Rosa was in a cotton robe and slippers, she must have just gotten up.
“Thanks. I…I couldn’t sleep.”
“After your late night, I thought you’d sleep in.”
“No, I…”
“Rosa, have you seen my hat?” Cadde walked in, fully dressed in jeans and a white shirt. His hair was still damp from the shower. How did he do that so fast?
“No, Mr. Cadde, I haven’t seen it.”
“Dammit, where did I put it?” He turned and left the room.
He didn’t appear to have a hangover, just a touch of grouchiness. The coffee machine beeped and she grabbed a cup and filled it, adding cream and sugar. As she sipped it, she realized Rosa was staring at her.
“Why are you so nervous?”
“I’m…”
“And your hair is everywhere. Did you brush it?”
Oh, damn. In her haste, she’d forgotten to brush her hair. She touched it with one hand. “My hair’s fine.” She went to the refrigerator for yogurt and fruit.