Deadly Deception by Alexa Grace

there, he didn't want to bear the brunt of her temper if she discovered he was in her bed uninvited.
     
    He crept to the right side of her queen-sized bed, grabbed a pillow, and pressed it against the headboard.  He sat perfectly still watching her and listening to her soft breathing for the longest time.
     
    The seduction of sleep overcame him and he slipped down under the comforter, careful to hug the right side of the bed.  He hadn't been asleep long when movement woke him up.  He opened his eyes in time to see Frankie roll over, flinging her arm across his chest, and her leg across his thighs.  He froze as she settled her head on his chest.  She made a sound like a cat's purr and cuddled closer.  Soon he heard her soft, even breathing.
     
    He remembered what Michael had said about Frankie's wicked temper.  He thought briefly about her possible reaction in the morning when she realized they'd slept together.  Not that they'd done any of the things he'd like to do with her in her bed.  He'd just have to risk it. 
     
     
     
    Streams of morning light slipped through the window blinds and streamed across the bed.  Frankie's head throbbed with pain and she shielded her eyes from the light with her arm.  Her head hurt, her body ached, and her stomach was doing somersaults.  The only thing that felt good was the heat she was near so she inched closer to the source.
     
    Frankie needed an Advil badly.  She had to do something about the pain.  Pulling herself up in a sitting position, Frankie covered her eyes with her right hand and reached back with her left hand to brace herself.  What her left hand touched was not the bed.  She gasped and jerked her hand away from her eyes.  Oh my God.  Lane Hansen slept half-naked in her bed.
     
    "Please tell me this is a dream.  I couldn't have been stupid a second time,"  she said out loud.
     
    "That statement does wonders for a guy's ego."
     
    "What the hell are you doing in my bed?  What happened last night?"
     
    "Unfortunately, not what you're thinking.  Look down at your clothes, Frankie.  Weren't you wearing those last night?" 
     
    Frankie looked down, her mind spinning.  Lady Gaga.  Loud music.  Strawberry daiquiris.  Being sick.  Oh, shit.  
     
    "You brought me home last night.  I remember. But why are you still here?"
     
    "I couldn't leave you alone when you were that sick."
     
    "Oh, and you couldn't have slept somewhere else?"  She eyed him suspiciously.
     
    "I was going to sleep in the living room but was afraid I wouldn't hear you if you got sick again."
     
    Frankie blinked and her heart squeezed.  She believed him, damn it.  Suddenly, she realized her mouth tasted terrible and her breath undoubtedly smelled as bad.  She climbed out of the bed and walked across the room, realizing Lane was watching her.  She rushed to the bathroom and turned on the shower then reached for her toothbrush and toothpaste.  Peering into the mirror, she noticed she was pale and her makeup was smeared.  Her hair looked post-sex messy.
     
     
     
    The news had finally arrived. Anne Mason-Brandt was on a mission.  She and Frankie had been waiting to hear this news for a couple of months.  Harley's girlfriend, Millie, had given birth to four perfect Giant Schnauzer puppies — one of which was earmarked for Frankie.  Excited to tell Frankie, she'd jumped in her SUV and rushed to Frankie's house.
     
     
     
    Frankie emerged from the shower feeling human again.  She smoothed baby oil onto her skin.  She then pulled out her hair dryer.  The noise of the dryer combined with her still throbbing head was a bad combo and she decided to let her hair air dry.  She reached for her robe, but it wasn't hanging on the hook on the back side of the door so she wrapped a fluffy blue towel around herself.  Right.  Her robe was in her room.  She slipped out of the bathroom and peeked into her bedroom.  Her bed was empty.  Another one of Lane’s infamous