Ms. Match Read Online Free PDF Page A

what?”
    “Autumn.” She winced as soon as the word came out. She hadn’t meant to say that.
    “My Autumn?”
    “Look. We’re next.”
    He turned, overbalanced, but caught himself at the last minute. “I guess I drank a lot more than I thought. When we were dancing I didn’t feel nearly this shaky.”
    She nodded, but stopped immediately as the motion made her stomach chime into a chorus of unsteadiness. The whole situation was ridiculous. She didn’t want to stay at the hotel. She had nothing with her, no change of clothes, not even a toothbrush. But she also didn’t want to take a taxi home, because just thinking of the ride made her queasy. Queasier.
    At the front desk, it took Paul a few minutes to get out his wallet, then he slapped down a credit card. “Two rooms, please.”
    “I’m sorry, sir. All we have available is a single room.”
    “Two single rooms, then.”
    “Actually, there’s only the one.”
    Paul looked at her. Then back at the reservation clerk. “We’ll take it.”
    “Wait a minute.” She drew Paul back a bit from the desk.
    “Don’t worry,” he said, before she had a chance to protest. “You can have the room. I’ll get a car.”
    “No. I’ll get a car.”
    He shook his head. “Absolutely not. You need to go to bed.”
    “So do you.”
    He stared at her until he started swaying. “Fine. We’ll share.”
    “Uh…”
    “Don’t worry. I’ll be a perfect…uh…”
    “Gentleman?”
    He pointed at her. “Yes.”
    “Okay, then,” she said.
    Gwen wasn’t worried—not about Paul, at least. She was concerned about not being ill. And the lack of a toothbrush. Along with the key, the nice reservation man handed Paul two baskets, each filled with all kinds of necessities. Everything they’d need to get through the night. Including two shiny condom packets.
    As if.

    THE ROOM WAS SERVICEABLE, the bed a queen. Gwen thought again about calling for a cab, but the night’s excesses won. She took her little basket into the bathroom and closed the door.
    The contents were enough to get her by, only just. No makeup remover, no face cream. She brushed her teeth as she debated the pros and cons of keeping her dress on. It was a beautiful thing and she wasn’t sure how it would do if slept in. The alternative, however, was bra and panties. Perhaps if the lights were off. If he were asleep. If she could manage to remove her clothes without falling flat on her ass. As it was, she was barely keeping her balance with a hand on the counter.
    She brushed her hair, then washed her face. It took a good deal of careful wiping to get most of her mascara off her eyes. When she was done she felt better. Slightly.
    What she really needed was water. Lots of water.
    When she came out, Paul was leaning against the wall, his tie off, his shirt half unbuttoned and his jacket on one of the chairs. Despite everything, he managed to look obscenely handsome. “It’s all yours.”
    He gave her a decent smile, considering, and took her place behind the closed door. If she was going to take off her dress, now would be the time to do it. First, though, she got a bottle of water from the minibar, then she kicked off her shoes. As she yanked the covers down, the reality of sleeping in her dress seemed too uncomfortable. Before she could change her mind her dress was off and she was scrambling under the covers as quickly as her poor body would move.
    The minute her head touched the pillow the seriousness of her folly hit hard. It had been years since she’d felt this horrible spinning sensation, years since she’d been fool enough to even approach being drunk.
    Why? Why had tonight been so different? It wasn’t just the pity date. She’d had plenty before and never gone overboard. It wasn’t just her family and their stupid comments. If she wasn’t used to that by now, she might as well just give up. It couldn’t have been Paul. Yes, yes, gorgeous, right. But so what? She wasn’t the one who was