“We’ll pay for any damage if she does,” Rock said. “And I promise you a nice tip.”

My stomach churned. I’d never be able to look Paul or Fox in the eye again. I’d have to pay Fox back somehow. Oh my God.

“Where to?” the driver asked.

“Where do you live?” Rock asked me.

But my mind wasn’t working. I opened my mouth but all that came out was babbling.

Rock chuckled, grabbed my purse from me, pulled out my wallet, and looked at my driver’s license. He gave the cabbie the address, and the car lurched forward.

Nearly taking the contents of my stomach with it.

“Easy,” Rock said again, wrapping his strong arm around my shoulders. “Lean on me. We’ll be there soon.”

I swallowed back my nausea and nuzzled into his strong shoulder. He smelled so good. Still like pine and the outdoors, even though he’d been in an office all day. Or so I surmised. He’d have to update his wardrobe.

The cab driver jerked to a stop in front of my building, and I heaved against Rock but managed to keep everything down.

“Damn it!” Rock said. “Do you have to drive like a maniac?”

“You’re not from New York, are you, man?” the cabbie said.

“No, I’m not. Not in this lifetime, anyway. But unfortunately I guess I’d better get used to it. Come on, Lacey.” Rock helped me out of the cab, and then gave the driver a few bills. “Let’s get you home.”

Somehow, I managed to walk past the doorman and get into the building. Then Rock and I took the elevator to my small apartment on the top level. By the time we made it to my door, I was ready to give up and fall asleep in the hallway.

I fumbled with the keys again, until he took them from me and had the door unlocked in a matter of seconds. He guided me inside my apartment.

I turned to him.

He was so damned gorgeous!

But he had to leave now. I was about ready to blow big chunks, and I really didn’t want Rock Wolfe to witness it. “Thanks for getting me home.”

“Not a problem. Show me your bedroom—”

“Oh, no. Not going there tonight.”

“So I can help you get to bed. You could actually let me finish a sentence, Lacey.”

“Nope. I can take care of myself—” I ran into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. I barely got the cover of the toilet up before I vomited.

Let me die now.

Two more heaves and my stomach was empty of the two hundred dollars plus worth of bourbon I’d put away. Not to mention the dinner I’d shared—and paid for—with Rock.

At least I felt a little bit better. But not much.