18
Evan’s eyes opened slowly. In his immediate field of view was a pile of pillows, covered by a scatter of long dark hair. For just a minute, he couldn’t figure out where the hell he was. Then the events of the night before came back to him in a rush — going to Zoe’s room. A kiss that wiped out the memory of every other kiss he’d ever had.
The two of them making love over and over, until at last they’d passed out around four-thirty in the morning.
He directed his bleary gaze toward the clock. Eight fifty-two. Could be worse, although normally he didn’t sleep that late. Then he froze. The promise she’d made to her creature. Breakfast at ten o’clock. That didn’t give them a whole hell of a lot of time.
“Zoe.”
A muffled groan was her only response. Apparently she wasn’t much of a mornin
