“Do you really think I’m the kind of guy who would take advantage of a woman in your current state? Give me a little credit.”

A giant yawn split her face, and I took her hand and led her through an open door that I assumed was her bedroom. I smiled. The bed was unmade, and laundry was strewn about. It was endearing. Most women I knew were such tidy freaks.

“Do you want to wash your face?” I asked.

“Too tired.” She took off her blazer and hung it over a chair. Then she turned to me, her cheeks red. “I’m going to get undressed now.”

I chuckled. “If I see anything I haven’t seen before, I’ll scream.”

“Not funny. Get out.”

“Seriously? Lace, I’m trying to help you here.”

“I am perfectly capable of undressing and putting on pajamas without your help.”

I sighed. “Fine.” I stepped outside the room.

About ten minutes passed. I sneaked back into the room, only to find her prone on her bed, topless, but her skirt and hose still on, snoring softly. I smiled and eased them off of her, leaving her only in her undies. Then I covered her, tucking the sheets around her gorgeous body.

I ought to get a medal for this. But strangely, as beautiful and enticing as she was, I still had no desire to take advantage of her. Odd.

I left the room, leaving the door open just a crack. Then I walked to the door of the apartment to leave.

“Crap,” I said out loud as I looked at the door. I didn’t have a key, and if I left, I’d have to leave the deadbolt unlocked. I knew enough about New York to know that was never a good idea. I could take Lacey’s key, but what if she didn’t have another?

No way was I leaving her unprotected.

I sighed, eyeing her living room. Her brocade couch looked mildly comfortable. Good thing, because that was clearly where I’d be spending the night. A crocheted afghan was folded on a nearby recliner. Hmm. That might be a better place to sleep. I removed my shoes, jeans, and shirt and settled in, pulling the afghan over me.

Sunlight streamed in through a window, waking me. For a moment I was disoriented. Where was I? Then I realized, as I cracked my neck. Lacey’s living room. Her recliner. I stretched my arms over my head and yawned. I felt good. I’d slept strangely well for being on a recliner all night. I checked my wrist. Six a.m. Lacey would probably be up soon.