In the end, Andres paid the price for Declan's sins against Naomi. That night, a thoroughly drunk Maeve tormented him endlessly. It wasn't until one in the morning that the demanding little queen finally succumbed to exhaustion and fell asleep.
The inevitable result of her binge was a brutal hangover. The next morning, she looked like a wreck.
Sporting a chaotic mess of bedhead, Maeve numbly accepted the hangover remedy Andres handed her. She had blacked out completely during her drinking session with Naomi, effectively launching most of the previous night's memories into outer space.
Noticing her sluggish movements and blank stare, Andres gently urged, "Drink it while it's hot."
"Drink what?"
"The hangover cure."
"Where is it?"
Andres felt like he had exhausted a lifetime's worth of patience on this woman. "It's in your hand."
Maeve finally realized she was gripping a glass full of liquid. She let out a soft "Oh," as if her brain was slowly booting up. Without questioning its effectiveness, she tilted her head back and downed the whole thing. Shoving the empty glass back into his hands, she flopped straight backward onto the mattress, looking every bit like a disgruntled, lazy cat.
Rarely getting to see her in such a dazed state, Andres couldn't resist the urge to tease her. He leaned over, planting his hands on either side of her pillow, closing the distance between them with intimate familiarity. "Maeve, you were so drunk last night. You made quite a few promises—you aren't going to back out of them today, are you?"

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