He drove to it anyway, thinking it might not be as bad as he suspected.
He arrived at her apartment and was able to wake her up enough to get her to focus. “Antonia, is this your building?” he asked, holding her head gently.
“Yes,” she said sleepily. “Fifth floor. Thanks for the ride.” After that, Antonia turned and curled up more comfortably in the soft leather seat.
Brett shook his head. She was out.
Sighing, he went around to the passenger side and lifted her up. She barely weighed anything, he thought as he carried her into the building.
Then he reached the lobby and read the note on the front of the elevators which claimed all of them were out of service. With no other alternative, Brett carried Antonia up the stairs. She got heavier and heavier with each flight.
Once he was standing in front of her doorway, Brett set her down and leaned her against the doorjamb while he searched through her purse for her keys. Finding them, he unlocked the door, then carried her through the darkened apartment.
He found the sofa the old-fashioned way, by running into it. Swallowing a curse, he put Antonia down on the sofa and found the lights.
When he turned around, he was astonished by the relatively large apartment. The furnishings were nice but not top rate. It was the smaller items scattered about that were real gems. She apparently collected tapestry pillows, wicker baskets, which added a homey effect, and old, black-and-white photographs, all displayed in intricately carved frames.
He shook her gently to wake her up since she’d fallen asleep again on the sofa. When she didn’t respond except to push his hands away and yawn deeply, Brett resigned himself to his task. He lifted her up and carried her into what he assumed was the bedroom.
Again, he was struck by how nice the room looked. It could be out of a magazine for old-fashioned cabins or mountain retreats. The soft yellow walls warmed the room while the quilt was an artist’s dream.
Brett laid her down and took off her shoes, placing them beside the bed. Next, he withdrew her stockings, groaning out loud when he realized she was only wearing thigh high stockings. Had he known that while dancing, he never would have made it so long. He wished he could look at her with them on, but he reminded himself that she was passed out.
So he averted his eyes and pulled the sheer stockings off her legs. Next came the dress. The fantastic dress. Now that he was the one taking it off her, he didn’t mind it so much. In fact, he loved it, he thought as he pulled it down and revealed her strapless bra.
Averting his eyes again, he lifted her up and pulled the quilt and sheets down, then tucked her under before taking her bra off. Once off, he lifted the scrap of material to his face, inhaling her soft perfume.
Brett groaned again. He had to get out of here. He couldn’t take any more of this. Turning off her bedroom light, he moved about the apartment and made sure the balcony was locked, then turned off the lights and closed the door behind him.
Chapter 5
Rolling over in bed, Antonia unfolded her arms, stretching sore muscles. She wished the sun wasn’t so bright and chided herself for not pulling the shade down on her window last night. Shielding her eyes from the bright sunlight streaming in through her bedroom window, she wondered why her head ached so much.
Then she remembered last night. And the champagne. And Brett bringing her home. Well, she didn’t remember all of it, but she remembered him waking her up in front of her building. But she only woke up enough to squint into the darkness to confirm that it was the correct building and that she lived on the fifth floor. After that, everything was a blur.
Rolling back onto her stomach, she searched her bedside table for the clock. Groaning, she realized it was already ten o’clock. She’d missed meeting everyone for church. They were already walking into the building by now.
What were they thinking, she wondered? They all knew she’d come home with Brett last night. Would they assume he’d spent the night?
Then the worst thought struck her. Brett knew where she lived. Would he tell her brothers? What would they do? She knew they wouldn’t approve of her apartment.
Throwing her legs over the side of the bed, she intended to get some aspirin and water. That was when she noticed her dress hanging on the closet door. Looking down, she saw that her shoes were next to her bed and her stockings, both of them were lying innocently on the dresser.
Antonia looked down and saw that she was completely naked except for her underwear. She groaned and buried her face in the pillow. Had one of her brothers come back with them? Surely none would allow a stranger to bring her home in the state she was in last night.
It would still be embarrassing if one of her brothers had undressed her. But complete humiliation if it had been Brett. She assured herself that it was probably one of her brothers. Unfortunately, she couldn’t imagine any of her brothers undressing her. They’d just push her legs under the covers fully dressed. She’d be lucky if they’d take off her shoes.
Pushing her hair out of her face, she got out of bed and headed for the bathroom, pulling on a fluffy white robe as she went. Antonia reached the bathroom and pulled down a bottle of aspirin, then turned to go to the kitchen for a glass of water, wishing her hair would stay out of her eyes. She knew she looked awful, but right now, her priority was to get the aspirin into her system. She’d worry about brushing her hair later. Much later, she thought as she turned the corner to the kitchen and her headache intensified.
But when she passed the doorway, someone was knocking. She didn’t want to face anyone, especially if it was one or all of her brothers. But she remembered they were all in church right now so she was probably safe for the time being. Assuming it was only her neighbor, Mrs. Winkler, who constantly ran out of one thing or another when she was baking and needed to borrow it from Antonia, she just walked to the door and opened it without looking through the security hole. If she had, she wouldn’t have opened the door.
Because there stood Brett, looking fresh and handsome in a pair of jeans, tee-shirt and light, blue jacket, leaning against her doorjamb.
“What do you want?” she asked, wishing she could just slam the door in his face. That way, she wouldn’t have to deal with the embarrassment of her actions last night. But she knew he’d just get in the way of the closing door.
“You,” he said immediately.
Antonia hated the blush that crept up her cheeks. And she hated his deep, husky laugh that told her he noticed her blush.