by Lucy Ryder
Within seconds the woman had slipped away again and Paige readied herself to perform a ligation. She needed to do it quickly or the tissue would necrotize and Grace would lose her arm after all.
She irrigated the area and prepared the suture kit while Ty awkwardly swabbed the wound one-handed, then she clamped the other end and very carefully sutured the severed artery. When they got Grace back to the hospital the orthos would be waiting to repair the damage properly.
Once she was done, Ty slowly removed the first clamp, testing the integrity of the ligation. After a couple of beats Ty grunted his satisfaction and removed the second clamp so the blood flow could resume.
“Great job, Dr. Cutie,” Nate said, giving her shoulder a tight squeeze. “You should have joined the army. You’d have made a kick-ass field surgeon.”
Realizing she was still holding her breath, Paige let it go with an audible whoosh. She flashed a look at Ty to gauge his reaction but his face was set in a hard unreadable mask.
Yeah. So much for, “Great job, Paige, I couldn’t have done better.” Realizing she’d been waiting for his approval, Paige shook her head at herself and inflated the BP cuff. Everyone held their breaths as the needle fell…and fell…finally bobbing at around seventy.
“Better,” Ty murmured, and rose, turning away to hide his involuntary wince. But for some reason she was becoming an expert on Ty Reese body language. He’d clearly wrenched his shoulder again.
Men!
Planning to catch him before she went back to the hospital, Paige quickly finished up, but by the time Frankie and Dale moved in to take over, he’d vanished.
*
Slouched low in his chair, Ty propped his feet on the deck railing, wincing as pain lanced through his shoulder. He needed to get ready for dinner with his father but moving meant using muscles he’d abused earlier today.
Lifting the beer bottle to his mouth, he admitted a little ruefully that maybe he’d been an idiot to help move those seats. But he’d seen Paige do what needed to be done without turning a hair. What else could he do but be a man?
He hated to admit it, but she’d been right about him. He was mad at the world. Mad that he’d been forced to rely on the skills of someone else to save his hand. Mad that he was living in a limbo caused by a drunken idiot who’d ploughed into a crowd of theatergoers because Ty looked like someone he had a grudge against. Mad that everything continued as though his world hadn’t come crashing down.
But at least he was walking, he thought with self-disgust. One victim of the hit-and-run had died and at least another had a crushed pelvis. He had no right to feel as though he was the only one affected by one man’s drunken rage.
Yet Paige hadn’t hesitated to put herself between her patient and danger. She’d wanted nothing more than to be there for her young patients but she’d stepped in because…because he was a coward and there’d been no one else.
Then Nate had complimented her and suddenly Ty couldn’t get away fast enough. He’d been filled with such self-loathing that he’d snarled at Nate’s suggestion that he have his shoulder checked out.
He didn’t need anyone to tell him he’d torn something. He was still a doctor, damn it. And no one was going to bully him into anything he didn’t want and wasn’t ready for—especially a feisty little medic with big eyes, a soft mouth and an even softer heart.
The memory of her stiff spine and huge hazel eyes filled with challenge and reproof as she’d squared off with him made him smile. She might look like a strong wind would blow her away but she was tougher and…he chuckled…meaner than she looked.
A whisper of sound caught his attention a beat before light spilled onto the deck and the person he’d been thinking about opened the French doors and stepped outside.
She looked towards his darkened sitting room and must have noticed that his French door was open because she stomped towards it, muttering about people leaving an “open invitation to the crazies of this world”.
“Need something?”
*
She uttered an ear-piercing shriek and stumbled back a couple of steps, nearly falling over a deckchair. “Dammit,” she swore, catching herself. “Stop doing that!” For a few moments her heavy breathing filled the darkness, reminding him of things he hadn’t had in a while. Things he’d convinced himself this morning that he didn’t feel for Paige Carlyle.
Things that should have scared him into escaping back to California but which kept him glued to the lounger because he was tired of running. She stomped closer and demanded, “What the heck are you doing, sitting out here? It’s freezing.”
He reached out, snagged her hand and pulled.
She gave a startled “Oomph,” and tumbled right into his lap. “What—what are you doing?” she squeaked, as light from her apartment spilled over her shocked face.
And then Ty did what he’d told himself he didn’t want. He swooped down and crushed her soft mouth with his. He’d meant it as punishment for everything she’d put him through but the instant his mouth touched hers he wanted more.
A lot more.
To prevent her from escaping, he slid his left hand up her back and buried his fingers in her cool, soft hair. She uttered a muffled protest and made to push away but Ty tightened his grip, opening his mouth over hers to snatch her breath, silence her protest.
His sudden intensity must have startled her because she gasped, and he took advantage by thrusting his tongue into her warm, wet mouth.
He tasted surprise and something hot and hungry and suddenly he was desperate for the taste of her in his mouth and the feel of her naked skin against his. And then even if he’d wanted to, he couldn’t have stopped because she suddenly straddled him and he was seeing more stars than there were currently in the night sky. The move surprised him and he was abruptly harder than he’d ever been in his life—in less than two seconds flat.
She took advantage of his momentary surprise by fisting both hands in his hair and dragging him closer, as though she was afraid he’d try to escape. But Ty wasn’t going anywhere. Instead, he slid both arms around her and responded with a hunger that might have shocked him if he’d been able to do more than growl with the need clawing at his gut.
Things went a little crazy then as Ty kissed her the way he liked it, hot and wet and deep. She made little mewling sounds and responded, closing her teeth around his tongue.
It made him grin and slide his hand up her back to cup her head. When he finally ran out of air, he broke away to graze his lips across her jaw towards the soft skin just below her ear.
She tasted like temptation, soft and delicious…so delicious that he found himself humming in the back of his throat and testing another patch of skin.
She was breathing like she’d just swum across the strait, and since he was too, he punished her by biting down on the tender lobe he’d exposed.
She jolted, her fingers clenching reflexively. Since they were still buried in his hair, the sharp pain made him nip her again until a delicate shudder moved through her. She made little huffing sounds that shouldn’t have turned him on but did—and began rolling her hips, the hottest, softest part of her pressing into the hardest part of him.
In no time he was shuddering and huffing because… Holy cow, she was the sexiest thing he’d ever kissed and he was suddenly desperate to feel all her softness beneath him, feel her around him as he thrust home.
With one thought—to get them both naked—Ty made to roll her beneath him. The move had him sucking in air as sharp pain tore through his shoulder. He stilled, hoping it would go away because there was no way he was stopping now.
But Paige must have heard that involuntary sound of pain because she froze. “What—?” she gasped, looking as stunned as he felt. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
His gaze dropped to her swollen mouth and he tried to pull her back but fire engulfed his shoulder and he couldn’t suppress a groan.
“I knew it,” she said breath
lessly, scrambling off his lap and making his eyes cross because… Holy cow. “You’re hurting.”
He huffed out a laughing curse and grabbed her hand to keep her from escaping, drawing her between his knees. He grimaced and shifted to adjust his position. “Then why are we stopping?”
She must have seen the direction of his gaze because she uttered a startled snort. “Not that, dummy,” she wheezed huffily, and yanked her arm free. “Your shoulder. You hurt it again.”
“What? No, it’s just a little stiff, that’s all.”
Paige pressed her lips together but a weird grunting kind of snort escaped. She tried to look innocent but Ty had no trouble following her train of thought because his erection was still pressed against her.
“Okay,” he admitted with an unabashed grin. “So ‘little’ is a gross misrepresentation but I was actually referring to my shoulder, Miz I’m-not-so-sweet-and-innocent.”
She rolled her eyes, not looking the least bit offended by the name. “I grew up with three older brothers,” she said, pointing an accusing finger at him. “And stop trying to distract me. I was also talking about your shoulder. Not…” She waved her hand at his lap. “Not that.”
Chuckling, he tried to roll his shoulder and had to suck in a sharp breath. Okay, so maybe it was a little more than stiff. Not that he would admit it, though.
“You’re lying. You tried to be a macho hero today and tore something, didn’t you?”
Irritated and hurting in more than one area of his anatomy, Ty rolled off the lounger and rose. “Quit nagging, I’m fine. Now,” he growled, moving stiffly towards the open French door, “if you’ll excuse me, I’m going out.”
“To the hospital, I hope,” she huffed, following as he headed inside.
He scoffed, “Don’t be ridiculous,” and turned to block her path with a big arm across the doorway. “I’m a trauma surgeon. I know how to treat an injury.”
She canted her hip and folded her arms beneath her breasts. “Fine, then you won’t mind if I see it.”
For a moment he was irritated as all hell; then he slowly allowed his mouth to curl, instinctively knowing how to distract her. “Why didn’t you just say so?” he drawled, enjoying the play of emotions across her face.
Paige stared at him for a couple of beats, her brow wrinkled in confusion, but Ty knew the instant she caught on because her mouth dropped open and a wild flush bloomed beneath her skin.
“You…you…guy,” she stuttered, looking as though she didn’t know whether to laugh or hit him. Finally, she huffed out an exasperated breath and spun away. “Fine,” she snapped, stomping off, muttering, “I hope it falls off.”
Before she could slam the door, Ty called out, “My arm or…?”
In a thrice it whipped open and she yelled, “Use your imagination.” She was about to disappear but stuck her head out to snap, “And another thing. Wear a damn bell or quit sneaking up on me. Next time I might be holding a carving knife.”
Ty was chuckling when her door finally slammed. He waited a couple of seconds, half expecting another insult, but her light was switched off, leaving the deck in darkness.
Leaving Ty alone.
Yeah, he thought as his amusement faded. Exactly how he wanted it.
Wasn’t it?
CHAPTER SIX
A WEEK LATER, Paige arrived home and made a beeline for the kitchen. It had been a crazy day and she’d barely had time to think, let alone eat or catch a minute for a break.
She put on coffee and opened the overhead cabinet before remembering that she’d used the last mug that morning.
Muttering about her lax housekeeping skills, she kicked off her shoes and headed for the deck. She vaguely remembered seeing the rest of the mugs scattered there, mostly because she tended to get sidetracked in the morning and kept leaving them either on the deck railing, the steps, or on the wooden patio table.
But when she opened the French doors she found all eight mugs on the table, sparkling clean as though waiting for her to bring out the coffee.
Her eyes widened. And that wasn’t all. The beach towels she’d draped over the wooden deck chairs to air out a few days ago were neatly folded beside the mugs.
Eyebrows rising up her forehead, Paige looked around to thank the cleaning fairies and found a half-naked Ty sprawled in the lounger, fast asleep.
Without her permission, her gaze swept over that wide, tanned expanse of awesomely sculpted chest to the eight-pack abs she’d been dreaming about licking…phew…and the happy trail that disappeared into a pair of faded low-slung jeans.
To her absolute horror her nipples tightened and her knees wobbled. She grabbed the back of the nearest chair to keep from falling and told herself it was hypoglycemia giving her such a head rush.
He, on the other hand, looked disgustingly healthy—not to mention really hot—and relaxed, and the fading bruises were barely visible on his sun-warmed skin. She glared at him and barely resisted the urge to grab the pitcher of water beside him and cool him the heck off.
“Don’t even think about it,” he warned in a voice rough and deep with sleep.
Pulse bumping up a couple notches, Paige screwed up her face. It was the first time she’d seen him since the night of “The Kiss” and despite trying very hard not to, she’d found herself worrying—and thinking—about him at the most inconvenient times. Worrying about his shoulder, his hand and…and darn it, she worried that he wasn’t taking care of himself.
Which was really stupid and girly. Of course he could take care of himself. He was all grown up. She gulped and mentally fanned herself. Especially in nothing but those low-slung faded jeans that drew her eyes like a magnet because they lovingly cupped him in cuppable places.
“Think about what?” she asked in an attempt at innocence, but either Tyler Reese could read minds or she wasn’t a very good actress. One arched brow made her suspect the latter.
His mouth curved as he swept his sleepy blue gaze over her. She’d had some pretty hot dreams about that mouth, dammit, as well as his broad shoulders…wide chest…washboard abs…lower—Dreams she’d awakened from all sweaty, flustered and extremely frustrated.
“What?” she demanded, conscious of the fact that while he looked rested and relaxed, she was feeling—and probably looking like—the effects of a hectic week.
He yawned and scrubbed a hand down his face. “You try throwing water on me and you won’t like my reaction.”
“I’m not worried,” she said smugly. “Look at you, getting soft with all the lazing around. I took you down once and I can do it a—” Her words ended on a shocked squeak when she found herself beneath him on the lounger. He’d moved so fast she hadn’t seen it coming until she was flat on her back with his big, hard body covering hers.
She blinked and found his lean dark face a couple inches above hers. “Wha…?” A delicious heat and lethargy invaded her limbs.
No, darn it. Not delicious, a voice yelled in her head. Dangerous. And unwelcome.
Yeah, Paige, unwelcome…because…because… Oh, boy. She sucked in a lungful of warm delicious man and couldn’t for the life of her recall… What was she supposed to remember again?
“You were saying?” Ty smirked as though he could read her thoughts and all she could do was swallow and say, “Huh?”
At her eloquent response, Ty gave a crooked grin that was far too appealing for her liking.
“Look at you.” He snickered, mimicking her. “All flustered and flushed, and my personal favorite…speechless.”
“If I’m……speechless, you big lug,” she pretend-wheezed, “it’s…because… I…can’t…breathe.”
He immediately shifted his weight to his uninjured elbow but instead of allowing Paige to breathe easier, it pressed a certain part of his anatomy—a very long, thick, hard part—into a certain corresponding part of her anatomy.
And look at that—she lost her breath, this time for real.
“You’re…um…” She broke off and sq
uirmed, her face heating when he just grinned.
“Just ignore it.”
“Oh, right.” Paige spluttered out a laugh. Like that was even possible with that…yes, that jabbing her in the thigh. Or the hard, flat naked belly against hers. Or the way his thigh pressed against her—How the heck had he sneaked a leg between hers?
“Seriously,” he advised as though she wasn’t already melting. “Don’t give it another thought…unless…”
She stilled, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Unless what?”
“Unless you wanna check it out,” he said casually, his eyes beginning to crinkle at the corners.
“What? No,” she gasped in outrage, giving his shoulders a bad-tempered shove, moving him…nowhere. “Is that how you charm your women, Reese? Play doctor and get them to give you a…a…physical?”
“I was talking about my shoulder,” he said dryly, and with one economic move rolled off the lounger and rose to his feet. Huffing like a steam engine—because no way had he meant that—Paige found herself admiring the play of muscles beneath all that smooth warm skin. Flesh that until a second ago had been so close she’d have been able to lean forward and lick it.
“You planning on sleeping, Dr. Cutie?” Ty asked over one wide shoulder.
“Call me that and die,” she said sleepily, propping her head on her hand and transferring her gaze to the view the deck afforded of the sea, harbor and marina. “But to answer your last question, I think I might. Not all of us get to nap in the afternoon. But… I see why you like it here. It’s beautiful.”
“It sure beats watching what passes for daytime television around here,” he said dryly, scratching his naked chest and stretching the kinks out of his back. Finding her attention locked on his chest—again—she shifted her gaze and caught sight of the mugs.
That reminded her of food.
“You didn’t happen to see any faeries cleaning the deck while you were lazing the day away, did you?” she asked, rolling to her feet with a big yawn. “I’d like to thank them.”
