“We had a good time?”

“A very good time. And, just so that you don’t have to worry, we took precautions.”

“That’s good to know.”

“And then you, uh, passed out.”

“I did?”

“It was a little scary. You just went out like a light. For a minute I thought, I don’t know—”

“That I was dead,” she supplied.

“But you were breathing, so I ruled that out.”

“That keen analytical mind must serve you well on Wall Street.”

“I tried to wake you,” he said, “but you were gone. So I let you sleep. And then I fell asleep myself, and, well, here we are.”

“Naked and unashamed.” She yawned, stretched. “Look,” she said, “I’m going to treat myself to a shower, even if I didn’t win the right in the Name That Stud contest. Don’t go away, okay?”

The bathroom had a window, and one look showed that she was on a high floor, with a river view. She showered, and washed her hair with his shampoo. Then she borrowed his toothbrush and brushed her teeth diligently, and gargled with a little mouthwash.

When she emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in his big yellow towel, the aroma of fresh coffee led her into the kitchen, where he’d just finished filling two cups. He was wearing a white terry robe with a nautical motif, dark blue anchors embroidered on the pockets. His soft leather slippers were wine-colored.

Gifts, she thought. Men didn’t buy those things for themselves, did they?

“I made coffee,” he said.

“So I see.”

“There’s cream and sugar, if you take it.”

“Just black is fine.” She picked up her cup, breathed in the steam that rose from it. “I might live,” she announced. “Do you sail?”

“Sail?”

“The robe. Anchors aweigh and all that.”