He retrieved his bottle from the table and prepared himself with a long swig.

“You are such an arrogant…Wow! Ipswich Ale. I’m impressed.”

“What? Did you expect me to be drinking something domestic like Coors or Bud? Because if that’s what the bar had, I’d be just as happy with one of those.”

She scowled. “No. Ipswich is just one of my favorite beers.” Her words slurred together. “God, do you really think I’m that shallow?”

Yes, he did.

Or maybe he didn’t. She certainly had a superiority complex, but she also had that vulnerability that kept appearing under her mask of self-confidence. He’d glimpsed it that first night he’d met her, then again when she’d asked for his drill. And every time he’d kissed her.

And when she’d practically begged for him to say he liked her.

Especially then, and he’d done nothing but disappoint her.

Thinking about that made his head swim. Or the ale did. Either way, he pushed the thought aside. “What did you have to say to me, Heather?”

She frowned as she tried to remember. Then her eyes lit up and she pointed a long finger at him. “You are a f**king arrogant asswipe…”

His c**k strained against his jeans. “You’ll understand if I don’t want to stick around for this.” He brushed past her, needing to get away from her before he acted on his drunken desire, but unable to do so without touching her one last time.

“Don’t interrupt my apology.”

Apology? He turned back to her. “This is an apology?”

“It might be.” Her eyes clouded. “If I can remember my next line…” Leaning against the table with one hand, she brought her other hand up to rub her forehead.

Shit, she really was drunk. Moral duty burst through his foggy brain. “Heather, how are you getting home? You aren’t driving, are you?”

She looked at him, uncertainty in her eyes. After a minute her face cleared. She reached into the cle**age of her dress and pulled out a key card.

Yeah, that wasn’t hot at all.

She waved the key in front of his face with triumph. “I’m staying in the hotel.”

Thank God. There was no way she’d make it farther than that without causing a scene. He didn’t even know if she could make it inside the building in her current state. “Do you need help getting to your room?”

“Are you offering to take me?” She smiled mischievously, and grabbed his shirt collar. “Because if you’re trying to get me in bed, all you had to do is ask.”

His c**k leapt at her husky throwback to the line he’d given her the night before. Why did she have to be such a damn sex kitten? He’d thought he couldn’t resist her when she was a mega bitch. If she was going to play seductress, he had no chance.

Except, sexy as she was at the moment, she was also drunk. Taking advantage of inebriated women was not his style.

It would be easier to keep that thought in his head if he wasn’t intoxicated himself.

He covered her hands with his and gently pulled them off him. “I’m more concerned about you making a fool of yourself. You seem to care a lot about your reputation.”

“A fool of myself?”

“Because you’ve had too much to drink.”

“I’ve only had two.” She wrinkled her forehead in thought. “Maybe two and a half.”

“Have you eaten anything today?”

“Um…I don’t…I can’t remember.” She swung to look behind her. “Did I, Lexie?” She continued her circle. “Lexie?” When she’d made it back around to Seth she was dizzy and wobbling. “Oh, yeah. Lexie’s not here.”

Sighing, he set down his beer bottle and grabbed her firmly by an elbow. “Come on, princess.” He had a feeling he shouldn’t be doing this, but he couldn’t reason out the harm.

Glancing around to make sure no one was watching them, he escorted her to the nearest doors leading inside.

“Where we going?”

“Your room.”

“How exciting.” She giggled, and his chest ached at the sweetness of the sound.

He led her to the elevators and pushed the call button before he realized he didn’t know where they were going. “Tell me your room number.”

“You’re so bossy.” She sidled closer to him. “It’s really sexy.”

His dick twitched eagerly. What had he been asking her about? Oh yeah. “Your room number, Heather.”

“417,” she said just as the elevator doors opened. “I have no idea how I remembered that.”

“Get in.” His voice sounded as strained as he felt. He was wound up so tight over her that he wasn’t sure how much longer he could resist.

And he was taking her to her hotel room. What the f**k was he thinking? Or maybe it was the alcohol thinking for him. He was too fuzzy to be sure.

Thank God they were alone in the elevator. As soon as the doors shut, Heather threw her arms around Seth’s neck and pressed against him.

Shit.

“Seth,” she sighed into him. “I’m so tired. I’m just going to rest my eyes for a minute.”

“No, no, no, princess. Keep your eyes open. We’re almost there.”

But his words were in vain. She was already slack in his arms when they arrived on the fourth floor. Cursing under his breath, Seth lifted her and followed the arrows looking for her room. He passed it twice before he made it there. He’d lectured her, but now that he thought about it, he hadn’t had anything to eat before those beers either. No wonder he wasn’t thinking straight.

At her door, he set her down on the ground, keeping a firm arm around her to keep her upright. “Heather? Heather, sweetie? Where’d you put your key?”

When she didn’t respond he realized he’d have to find it himself. She didn’t have a purse so she’d either dropped it on the way to her room or she’d put it back where she’d been keeping it.

Only one way to find out.

“Don’t get too excited, buddy,” he said to his cock, then slipped his hand down the front of her dress to search for the key. If his fingers lingered a little longer than necessary after he’d found the card, well, could she really blame him?

He slid the key card into the slot and prayed it was the right room. When the light went green and the door clicked open, he let out a sigh of relief.

Now to get her inside.