Page 52 of Zane

"Zane-"

"For the love of God, if I'm really your brother, please go and get some coffee started."

She left, and he could hear her pottering in the kitchen. His bladder was exploding. Inching off the bed, he cautiously made his way to the bathroom. A glance at the mirror had him staring in shock. His eyes were bloodshot, and his hair looked as if someone had taken an electric prod to his balls.

Even though the inside of the trailer was cool, there was sweat dampening his forehead and his armpits. He had managed to take off his jacket, but that was all.

Swearing ripely, he dragged off his clothes and stepped into the shower stall. Turning the knob until the water was as cold as he could stand, he stepped under the spray.

His eyes flew open when the glass door was yanked open.

"Naked here."

"You have nothing I haven't seen before, unless you've grown an extra pair of testicles. Here." Taking his hand, she slapped the steaming cup of coffee into it, and he whimpered in relief. "I'll be in the bedroom when you come out. The place is a stinking mess."

"I don't want you tidying up," he called after her, and had to wince as the raised tone sent off another round of pain in his temple.

"We can't always get what we want," Zoe called back.

Sighing, he took a large swallow of the brew before dunking his head under the spray. The coffee, seeping heat into his tortured stomach, and the cold, bracing water were doing a decent job of making him feel as if he were not about to die.

Tossing back the rest, he turned off the spray and stepped out, grabbing two towels. Remembering that his sister was still in his bedroom, he wrapped one around his waist instead of walking into the bedroom stark naked. The other one he used to rub the water from his hair.

"I made you breakfast," she announced as soon as he came into the bedroom.

A scan of the room showed him that she had also changed the sheets and pillowcases, and picked up some clothes he had left on the floor.

"Since when did you become Polly Homemaker?"

"Since my brother is a slob. A drunken slob." She pointed to the tray. "Toast and homemade marmalade brought over from the manor. Mom and Dad are expecting you for supper."

"I'm not hungry." Turning away, he went to yank out drawers. Plucking out a pair of ancient sweats and an old Harvard sweatshirt, he marched into the bathroom to get dressed before coming back out.

Deciding that he felt halfway decent, he sat down and took the tray. Reaching for the cup of coffee, he took a drink and closed his eyes. "Thanks."

"You were gone Friday night and almost all day Saturday," she noted as she picked up the towels he had thrown on the floor.

He arched a brow at her. "Checking up on me? Don't you have anything better to do with your time?" He eyed her chic powder blue pantsuit. "And what's that get-up for?"

"Church and then tea with some of the wives." She came to sit next to him. "The fall benefit."

"Oh." He nibbled on the toast without much appetite.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing at the moment."

"Zane." She sighed. "You were drunk."

"As far as I know, that's not a crime."

"You've been with her."

He didn't want to talk about Kara. Even the bottle of scotch he had imbibed had not managed to erase her completely from his thoughts. Dreams of her, of the hours they had spent together, had chased him. And then he remembered that she wanted nothing to do with him outside the bedroom.

"Leave it alone!" he snapped.

Leaning back, she crossed her legs and simply stared at him. Her cool and confident beauty struck him all of a sudden. Her hair was styled into an elegant chignon at the nape of her neck, and she had diamonds around her throat and lobes. Zoe had never known an ounce of low self-esteem in her life.