“How’d you get in?” Dez asked. He didn’t sit up. Riley wasn’t the only cat cuddling up to him. A couple more had sneaked closer during the night and lay either on or right beside him.
“Those CSI people are working on the doors,” Francis said.
Dez glanced at a clock on the wall. Almost nine. Good grief.
“SOCO, not CSI. How’s your head?”
“Fine. Well, fine enough.” A couple of the cats had greeted him, and he picked up an all-white, elegant shorthair. “You stayed in here all night?”
“You asked me to take care of the cats and this is where the cats are.”
“Fair enough. Give me a second, I have to change clothes. Then I’ll make some breakfast.” He passed the white cat to Dez, obviously not finding it strange that Dez wasn’t getting up, still pinned down by cats. “Look after Daenerys while I change.”