Page 11 of Scarlett and the Big Bad Billionaire
I swam to the side of the pool, climbing the ladder then hoisting her up and out of the water. Once I was certain she’d stay upright without my support, I grabbed our clothes from the lounger and offered her the red dress.
“There aren’t any towels. You’re going to have to put it on wet.”
She nodded and wiggled herself back into the dress while I pulled on my t-shirt.
“Okay, time to get you in bed.” I immediately corrected myself so there was no misunderstanding—on either of our parts. “I mean let’s get you back to your suite soyoucan go to bed.”
She nodded dreamily and slid her feet back into her shoes, tottering toward the open pool area gate.
I grabbed her purse and caught up, walking beside her in case she lost her balance. “Do you remember where your suite is?”
“It’s not a suite,” she said. “It’s one of those little… little… what do they call those little houses?”
“Bungalows?” I guessed.
She laughed. “That’s a funny word. Bongo, bungo, bungalow.”
Oh boy.She was out of it, and she was going to be hurting in the morning. I needed to find this bungalow or suite or wherever she was supposed to spend the night—soon—or she was going to pass out on me, and I’d have no choice but to take her back to my room.
That wouldnotbe ideal.
Thankfully, as we passed the resort’s luxurious, free-standing bungalows, something must have looked familiar to her. She headed toward the door of one of them.
“Oh—here it is. My room—suite—my suite-room, home sweet bungalow home.” She laughed again, attempting to swipe the key card in the lock.
After the third failed attempt, I took the card from her hand. “Let me help you.”
The lock clicked, and she pushed the door open. When the light from one of the interior lamps hit it, I read the words painted on the outside of the door.
Honeymoon Suite
Oh.I was starting to get the picture.
Red stumbled inside and flung off her strappy heels one at a time. One smacked the wall just below a large mirror. The other somehow flew over her head and right at my face. I grabbed it just before it took out my left eye.
Thank you, sobriety.
The bed was strewn with red rose petals. On a small table next to it, an unopened bottle of champagne swam in a silver bucket of water. I assumed the ice bucket had held ice at one point today.
No wonder she hadn’t wanted to return to her room.
Peeking into the dark bathroom, I saw what appeared to be an elaborate white rug then realized it was actually a wedding dress that had been left on the floor.
Well, that confirmed it. What we were dealing with wasn’t a party girl but a jilted bride. It made sense. Based on the way she handled her alcohol she wasn’t a frequent drinker.
Which concerned me. It wasn’t safe for her to be alone in this condition.
She needed to be watched for signs of alcohol poisoning. Blood alcohol content could continue to rise while a person slept. I didn’t know what her body weight was exactly, but it couldn’t have been that much.
If she was unsupervised, she could choke or slip into a coma.
With that in mind, I stepped farther into the room where Red now lay face-down on the bedspread. Her bare feet hung off the end. She wasn’t moving.
Rushing to the bed, I rolled her to her side and confirmed she was breathing. I gave her arm a little shake.
“Red, wake up. Don’t go to sleep on me just yet. You need to drink some more water. Do you have any ibuprofen here?”
She rolled to her back, shaking her head from side to side. “Dunno… it might have been in Bryce’s bag, but it’s… gone. Gone gone gone.”
