Chapter 7When Canaan awoke, his head throbbed in agony and his stomach performed a series of barbarous somersaults. His fuzz-covered tongue seemed glued to the roof of his sinfully dry mouth. Just the act of drawing a breath into his needy lungs proved an arduous task. He tried to turn over in bed, but his limbs felt completely devoid of muscles and sinew, let alone the necessary energy. He opened his eyelids, then slammed them shut when sunlight speared through the drapery and sent brutal bayonets of torture into his brain. Damn, he thought, he hadn’t experienced a hangover so utterly debilitating since imbibing some cheap Georgia mountain-mash several months earlier.
Then he remembered his lover.
Desdra…she could help him, nurse him. Perhaps she could give him medicine to ease his head
