Winter Roses. Diana Palmer

laughed shortly. But he got up, went into the bathroom and was back a minute later with a damp washcloth. He pressed it over her eyes. “Does it help?”

      She held it there and sighed. “Yes. Thank you.”

      “I have to have heat,” he replied conversationally. “I can’t bear cold when my head’s throbbing.”

      “I remember.”

      “Where did you get the chocolate, Ivy?” he asked after a minute.

      She grimaced. He really did know too much about her. “There was a cookie this afternoon. I didn’t realize it was chocolate until I’d eaten half of it. Merrie warned me.”

      “I can eat ten chocolate bars and they don’t faze me.”

      “That’s because chocolate isn’t one of your triggers. But Merrie says you won’t drink red wine.”