About Last Night... Read Online Free PDF

fact that
    she'd been ogling his friend didn't count because she hadn't gone looking for it, and besides, Derek hadn't been naked.
    Completely. And she hadn't tipped him.
    The background noise cleared suddenly, then he said, "Janine, look over your shoulder."
    Perplexed, she did, and scowled when she saw Derek standing in the room, talking into a cellular phone.
    "Steve left his phone in the bathroom," he said, his voice sounding in her ear. His mouth was pulled back in a sham of a
    smile.
    She replaced the handset with a bang. "That's not funny."
    He pressed a button on the phone and pushed down the antenna. "No. Not as funny as the fact that you can't recognize the
    voice of the man you're going to marry."
    Annoyed, she flailed to her feet and was rewarded with a head rush, plus a stabbing pain in her heel that indicated she had
    burst the blister there. "You sound like him," she insisted. Only to tell the truth, Derek's voice was deeper and his speech
    slower, more relaxed.
    Derek's jaw tightened, but when he spoke, his voice was casual. "I'm nothing like Steve."
    An odd thing to say for someone who was supposed to be Steve's friend, but he was right. Steve was gregarious, carefree.
    Derek carried himself as if the weight of the world yoked those wide shoulders, and she wondered fleetingly if he had a wife,
    children, pets.
    He held up a pager. "This was in the bathroom too."
    Her shoulders fell in defeat. It was obvious Steve hadn't wanted to be bothered tonight. "Do you know where he went?"
    He shook his head and shoved his feet into tan-colored loafers. "Sorry."
    She frowned as he strapped on his watch, then stuffed a wallet into the pocket of his jeans. When he picked up a small
    suitcase and a computer bag, then headed toward the door, her stomach lurched. "Where are you going?"
    He nodded toward the door with nonchalance. "To get another room."
    Humiliated or not, she couldn't help feeling panicky at the thought of Derek leaving. What must he think of her? What would
    he tell Steve? "But I … I thought you said the hotel was out of rooms."
    Derek shrugged. "There has to be an empty bed somewhere in this place, and no offense, but I feel lousy and I need to get
    some sleep."
    "I'll leave," she said quickly, walking toward the door. "I'll call my ride from the lobby."
    He held out a hand like a stop sign and laughed without mirth. "Oh, no. Steve would never forgive me. The place is all
    yours." He put his hand on the doorknob and turned it.
    "But—"
    "It was, um—" he swept her figure head to toe, and for the first time, genuine amusement lit his dark eyes "—interesting
    meeting you." Then he opened the door and strode out.
    4
    « ^ »
    D erek marveled at the turn of events as he stumbled toward the elevator. Whew! Steve had one kinky nut of a fiancée on his
    hands, that much was certain. His buddy's and his brother's escapades with women never ceased to amaze him, and every time
    he felt the least bit jealous of their ability to attract the most outrageous litter of sex kittens, he reminded himself that their lives
    were roller coasters and his life was a…a…
    He frowned and rubbed his temple to focus his train of thought. Searching for a metaphor to symbolize his solid, responsible
    position in the amusement park of life, the best he could come up with was … a chaperone. God, he felt older than his thirty-
    five years.
    Thankfully the elevator arrived, rousing him from his unsettling contemplation. On the ride to the lobby he snorted at the
    memory of Janine Murphy straddling him, thinking he was Steve. Tomorrow when he felt better, he was sure he'd have a belly
    laugh over the case of mistaken identity, but for now he knew he desperately needed sleep. He glanced at his watch and
    groaned. Almost two in the morning, which meant he'd been awake for nearly forty-eight hours, thanks to Donald Phillips. And
    Steve Larsen. Oh, and Pinky Tuscadero.
    Back in Lexington, Donald Phillips was one of the largest