by Lori Foster
“Do you sing along with them?”
“When there’s no one around to be offended by my less than sterling voice.”
“Me, too. At the top of my lungs.”
His thumb rubbed over her knuckles, then he said softly, “You don’t have a Christmas tree.”
Uh-oh. Just that quickly they left the lightheaded stuff and entered into the emotional. She pulled her hand away, using the excuse of smoothing her blankets. Her head felt muddled with fatigue and medicine and the newness of speaking so casually with Daniel. It was dark outside with only a little moonlight coming through her rainbow-sheathed window. Quiet surrounded them, his expression was intent. And he’d seen her bare backside. Suddenly things seemed far too intimate.
Without looking at him, she said, “A tree seems like a lot of fuss and bother for just me.” She hoped she sounded casual, not maudlin. Christmas was a hard time for a person alone, but she didn’t want him to know it. Regardless of this moment, they didn’t like each other, and she couldn’t give him future ammunition to use against her.
“You don’t entertain on the holidays? You don’t have any family to visit with you?”
“My mother lives in Florida but she travels over the holidays, visiting all her … friends.” The reality of that hurt, and she closed her eyes to hide her emotions from him. The medicine pulled at her, numbing her wits, and she heard herself whisper, “I know you won’t believe it, but I really don’t entertain all that often. I’m not much of a partying person.”
He didn’t say a word, and she finally opened her eyes to meet his gaze, though forcing her lids to lift wasn’t easy. Rather than seeing the disbelief she expected, he looked thoughtful. “Daniel?”
His name sounded slurred, and she frowned. Daniel reached out and smoothed a lock of hair away from her temple. The tender touch sent her pulse rioting. Her head pounded, her stomach felt jumpy.
A reaction to the pain pills, she decided. She never did react well to medication.
“Go to sleep, Lace. Just give in to the pills and relax. Everything’s going to be okay.”
She didn’t understand that cryptic comment, but her awareness was fading without her permission.
Her eyes closed and her body seemed to sigh into the mattress. She heard Daniel say softly, “If you need anything, I’ll be here.”
“Here?” The word emerged as a mere whisper, barely heard by her own ears.
“I’m staying the night, Lace,” His fingers touched her cheek, her chin. “I don’t want to leave you alone.”
She struggled to open her eyes again, to get her mouth to work. She didn’t want him in her apartment all night, didn’t want to be indebted to him. Most of all, she didn’t want to be vulnerable, to have him watch her in her sleep, explore her home without her awareness. But it was too late.
She fell asleep with his promise still in her ears and his large strong hand holding her own.
And surprisingly, she felt comforted by his presence.
*
Three
« ^ »
The soreness went bone deep, tugging at her, making her temples pound. It hadn’t been a restful night, despite the pain medication, but Daniel had done his best to assist her. Maybe that was the problem: Daniel.
Throughout the night, whenever she’d so much as move, Daniel would suddenly be there, at her bedside, tending her, speaking to her in soft, soothing tones. So unlike the Daniel she knew. So tempting.
Walking was a definite chore this morning. Even her back and hips hurt. Probably from the awkward way she’d positioned herself in the bed. She found a robe, a pale pink, soft cotton piece of nonsense that fueled her sense of whimsy and completely hid her black T-shirt. She stared at it, wondering if the soft color or the sweet ruffles would lacerate Daniel’s sensibilities. He did seem to have a thing about mixing her with color.
Shrugging, she slipped it on and tied the belt tightly.
After brushing her teeth and washing her face, she made her way cautiously to the kitchen to start the coffee.
On her way past the living room she heard a soft snore and froze. No man had ever slept in her apartment; no man had ever even been in her apartment. How it made her feel now, to have Daniel snoring on her couch, couldn’t quite be measured, not first thing in the morning, without coffee and with too little sleep.
Investigating, she inched farther into the darkened living room, following the low sound of deep male breathing until she stood beside the short, fat couch. Daniel, overflowing the squat piece of furniture at every angle, lay on his back, his shirt gone, his belt removed and his pants unbuttoned. His bare feet, long and narrow and sexy really, when she took the time to look at them, hung over the opposite arm of the couch. His face was turned slightly toward her, his lips parted, his silky brown hair mussed and falling over his forehead. Beard shadow darkened his face and his thick, gorgeous lashes rested on his high cheekbones.
She forgot her pain. She forgot her coffee.
He had a lot of soft-looking, light brown hair on his chest; she liked that. His shoulders were hard, the flesh pulled smooth and taut over bone and sinew and muscle. With one arm propped behind his head, she could see the flex of his biceps, the thickness of his forearm, his obvious strength.
But she’d always known he was strong, at least, in the most important ways. He’d cared for his family when no else would or could, and continued to care for them, even now when they were all grown. He handled crises at the hospital every day in his sure, confident manner. He had conviction and determination down to a fine art. She admired him, even though she didn’t want to.
Seeing his physical strength now shouldn’t do this to her, shouldn’t make her heart flutter, or her stomach curl tight. But it did. She looked from his chest to his flat belly, not ridged with muscles, just lean and firm and manly. Through the open clasp of his pants she could see the start of a dark, silky line of hair, the elastic of white briefs, and below that… She inhaled thickly through her nose.
“Good morning.”
Startled, she jerked her gaze to a more appropriate place, like his face, and then from embarrassment because he watched her so intently, to the kitchen. “I was going to start some coffee.”
He didn’t move and his voice stayed deep and lazy, amused. “You were looking at me.”
“You snore.”
Chuckling, he rubbed his face and stretched like a big, confident cat, and once again her gaze roamed over him. His dress slacks were badly wrinkled and without his glasses, he looked… She liked his glasses, but he looked softer without them, not as stern. It unnerved her.
He sat up and she noticed the flex and roll of muscles in his chest and shoulders. He yawned hugely, with no sense of his polite, restrained manner, and then grinned at her. “This couch makes a terrible bed.”
“Maybe that’s because it was never meant to be a bed.”
“After last night, I can understand why.” He stood, and when she didn’t back up, their toes almost touched. Reaching out, he tucked a wayward tress of hair behind her ear and stroked her cheek. “Did you finally get any sleep?”
She could smell him, a deep, dark, musky male scent that was delicious and enticing and forbidden. Why was he being so nice all of a sudden? Was this part of his solicitous doctor mode? Somehow, she didn’t think so.
“I slept fine.” Her voice sounded like a croak.
“Liar.” He took her shoulders and moved her gently aside. “You shouldn’t even be out of bed. You should have awakened me if you wanted coffee. That’s what I’m here for.” He urged her toward the cushions he’d just vacated. “Lie down and I’ll get you a pillow.”
She started to protest, but he still held her, and never in her life had she felt so tongue-tied. “Daniel…”
“Shh. How do you like your coffee?” He lifted her legs carefully up onto the couch, putting a soft cushion beneath her, situating her as if she had no strength or will at all. “Strong, I hope. I need the caffeine.”
So did she. The damned couch was still warm from his body, and on it, his scent was strong, stirring her, making her think ridiculous things. The urge to reach up and pull him down with her was so acute, she had to resort to sarcasm to save herself. “I’m not an invalid, and you’re not my great-aunt, so you can stop the coddling. I’m fine.”
He scratched his belly, distracting her once again, before slipping on his glasses. He finger-combed his hair, and Lace watched the silky strands glide in and out of his fingers. “You’re not fine. I want you to take it easy—very easy—for at least forty-eight hours. After that, we’ll see.”
“You may be used to bossing Annie and Max around, but you’re not my brother.”
“Not your aunt, not your brother.” He touched the tip of her nose without smiling, his expression intent. “Believe me, I’ve never felt remotely brotherly toward you.”
He turned his back on her and went into the kitchen.
Lace heard the running of water, the clink of the glass carafe, the opening and closing of a cabinet. She sighed and flopped her head back to stare at the ceiling. How strange it seemed to have Daniel Sawyers in her kitchen. Beyond strange, it seemed bizarre, improbable, ridiculous. Maybe she was imagining the whole thing. Maybe…
“I’m going to take a quick shower. Sit tight. I’ll be done before the coffee is.”
Her eyes widened and her face felt stiff. Daniel in her shower? Naked? She’d never be able to use that shower again without wicked images invading her mind. How unfair of him to shove his way in, to dominate her thoughts and take over her home.
Used to taking care of herself, she wasn’t about to let him run her life. She waited until she heard the shower start, then limped her way into the kitchen. Pain or not, she refused to be a burden, and she refused to allow Daniel to get one up on her. Who knew when he might use this damned weakness against her?
She found a refrigerated package of cinnamon rolls and put them in the oven. The coffee was almost done so she got out two large mugs, spoons, sugar, cream.
“What the hell are you doing?”
She jumped, almost dropping the napkins and jarring her leg enough that she winced in pain. Daniel, his wet hair brushed back from his forehead, his chest still damp, his lashes spiky, stood in her kitchen scowling at her. For some insane reason, she almost felt guilty. She simply couldn’t reconcile this scenario with reality. No man had ever stood half-naked in her kitchen after his shower, but she could have imagined almost any other man in such a position easier than she could Daniel.
He saw her grimace of pain and moved toward her, slipping his arm around her waist. The dampness of his skin, the warmth of his bare chest, caused her to stiffen even more.
“Do you need me to carry you?”
She needed him to go away so she could stop acting like an idiot. “No. Don’t touch me.”
He laughed. “This show of shyness from Lace the Sex Expert? Lace the Uninhibited?”
Her head snapped around and she glared. “This show of concern from Daniel the Ice Man? Daniel the Discreet?”
The barest trace of regret clouded his eyes before he released her, his expression impassive. They stood that way for long moments, each watching the other, until finally Daniel sighed. “I understand how you might feel, Lace. I really do. I know you despise me. But right now, there are other factors involved. One, I’m a doctor, your doctor, and I’m telling you that you have to take it easy. That means staying off your feet and keeping as much stress off the injury as you can. Two, you’re my little sister’s best friend. I can’t ignore that. Annie would have a fit if I just left you alone right now. And three, we’re both adults. Surely you can behave like one.”
Lace narrowed her eyes and tucked in her chin. An impressive repertoire of scathing comments, one right after the other, tripped to the tip of her tongue. She opened her mouth to blast him with her cold disdain, her well-rehearsed verses reserved for obnoxious men, and said, “I don’t despise you.”
He blinked twice, rapidly. She imagined she looked just as surprised. That was not what she’d intended to say. Not at all.
Daniel narrowed his eyes and rolled in his lips, his brow drawn. “Then…”
“I have things I have to do, Daniel.” Escape seemed her only viable option now. “Mail to read and answer. A show to prepare. Appointments.”
“You can’t go out. No, Lace, don’t go all stiff-faced on me. As a doctor, I’m telling you that you have to take it easy. It’s icy outside. If you slip and fall, there’s no telling what damage you’ll add to your wound. And that’s in addition to the harm you’ll cause just by trudging through the snow and frigid wind. As far as your mail, I can bring it to you in bed. I have a laptop computer you can use if you’d like.”
She hesitated and he seemed to explode. “Dammit, don’t be an idiot! Your health is at stake here.”
She slumped. “I have phone calls to make, my laundry to do…”
“I’ll help you.”
The laughter erupted and she clapped a hand over her mouth, then peeked up at him. “I beg your pardon?”
A red flush started at his neck and worked its way to his ears. “I’m off today. I’ll run home and get a change of clothes, my laptop, and I’ll pick up your mail and something for us to eat later for lunch. While you make your phone calls, I’ll go downstairs and throw in some of your laundry.”
She fanned her face, pretending a near swoon. “I think I need to sit down.”
“No sitting. Come here. And don’t shy away from me like that. Just pretend I’m one of your admirers.” He hesitated. “Or lovers.”
“Ha! I’m not quite that creative.” She didn’t add that imagining any lover was well beyond her capability.
Grinning, he said, “I know. It does stretch the boundaries of inspiration, doesn’t it?” He took her arm and once again led her to the sofa. “Lie down. Stay down.”
“I’m not a disobedient pet.”
“No pet would dare be this disobedient or I’d take it to the pound. Now, I’m going to get you a few more pillows and if you need anything else, please, ask me.”
Her head swam. She tried to reconcile why Daniel would be doing all this, why he’d willingly give up his day off to hang around and pester her. No logical reasons presented themselves to her bedeviled brain.
He came back and slipped one of her lemon yellow pillows under her head, another under her leg. “How’s that? Are you comfortable?”
Unable to meet his gaze, she nodded. She’d never in her entire life had anyone pamper her. The feeling was unsettling, to say the least. “Thank you.”
“Lace.”
Lace lifted her gaze to his, confused, nervous, words beyond her. With him still leaning close, one hand on the back of the couch, the other on the cushion, they stared at each other. For long seconds their gazes held, and Daniel slowly, almost imperceptibly, leaned closer. His attention moved to her mouth. Lace parted her lips to take in a deep breath, allowing some necessary oxygen to reach her brain, and got stung by reality. “I smell something burning.”
Daniel paused. “Hmm?”
Oh, that low husky rumble. Lace realized now how dangerous this whole situation had become. Somehow in the space of a single night their antagonism had mutated into something much more elemental between men and women, something she’d never thought to deal with. Something she suspected had been there all along.
She cleared her throat. “I put rolls in the oven. They’re burning.”
Daniel jerked back, and with understanding came a look of appalled fascination. Lace continued to stare. She felt as though she couldn’t quite breathe, as if the world had gone totally hazy. She knew better, had learned early on the ramifications of making such a horrible, ridiculous mistake. But she couldn’t deny it any longer. As ill suited as they were, as much as he annoyed her and as much as she enjoyed annoying him, she lusted after Daniel Sawyers.
It was probably the fault of her new revelation that she
didn’t pay any attention when Daniel went to retrieve the rolls. He asked, his voice only slightly gruff, how she liked her coffee and she answered him, without thought, that she wanted it sweetened and with cream. He carried the cup to her, along with the rolls, already iced. They ate in a kind of unsettled, stunned silence.
Whatever intimacy had existed a minute ago was gone now, replaced by propriety and common sense and belated panic. Lace sipped her hot coffee and reminded herself of all the relationships that had gotten started on such a shaky foundation as lust, relationships she helped to redefine as part of her profession. She remembered all the emotional pain her mother had put herself through, trying to build on something as insubstantial as physical need. She thought of Daniel’s cursed opinion of her.
And still, she wanted him.
“You’re in pain again, aren’t you?”
Her thoughts disrupted, Lace looked at him and shrugged. “A little.” Actually more than a little. The dull throbbing discomfort in her backside had increased to the point that she didn’t want to move, because moving caused a definite sharp pinch of pain.
“You need to take another pain pill.”
She hated to admit he was right, but she didn’t relish playing the role of the martyr, either. She started to rise, but he halted her. “I’ll get it, and then I’ve got to get going. Promise me you’ll take it easy until I get back.”
So he planned to just ignore the preceding moments of passion? That figured. “You’re sure you don’t mind doing this?”
“I believe I was rather insistent.”
“All right. Suit yourself. It’s not often a girl gets to be treated like a queen. Maybe I can even find a small bell somewhere that I can ring when I want you. I’ll just pretend you’re my erstwhile slave, awaiting my meanest direction. What do you think?”
“I think you’re pushing your luck.”
Lace chuckled. “Just teasing. I’ll be a good queen and rest here while I make my phone calls. That should take me at least an hour.”
