Tanned legs, toned arms, tempting cleavage were all in plain view. He could only imagine the stuff he couldn’t see under that thick terry cloth, which he could get off her with just the flick of a wrist.
Bringing her here was a big mistake, but man, he was having a hell of a time remembering all the reasons why. Except one picture was worth a thousand words.
“Are you all right?”
No, I’m not all right, Ellie thought.
She was standing there in a towel, although that hardly mattered since he’d already seen her in nothing. But Alex was looking at her as if he could either kiss her or kill her and wasn’t particularly choosy about which it would be. In the next instant he was undressing her with his eyes. She’d always thought that was a stupid expression, but right this second the meaning was completely clear and she didn’t much mind. On top of that, his breathing was none too steady and that was making hers unsteady, too.
“I dropped the bottle of shampoo,” she said, not really answering the question. “All I want to do is wash my hair, but the sink is too small and I can’t bend over the tub.”
“You’re not hurt?” He dragged his fingers through his hair and his hand was shaky. “You didn’t fall?”
“No. To both.”
“You scared the hell out of me, Ellie.”
“I’m sorry. It’s just so darn frustrating. I can’t move around normally. It’s awkward. And my leg hurts.”
“I know. It will take time to get used to this—”
“Don’t patronize me. I couldn’t wait for you to change the showerhead. All I want to do is wash my hair. It shouldn’t be that hard. And now I’m repeating myself.” She sighed. It wasn’t fair to take this out on him. “Still, the rest of me is clean, so I’ll live with the disappointment and figure it all out tomorrow.”
His mouth pulled tight before he snapped, “Get dressed.”
“Really? You’re giving me orders now?” Self-righteous indignation would be easier to pull off if she wasn’t standing on one leg while wearing only a towel.
“It’s my house and I can say what I want. Concentrating on the current problem will be a lot easier if you’re wearing some clothes.”
“Oh.” Wow. That was pretty cool that he was hot and bothered. Inconvenient, all things considered, but cool nonetheless.
“So, get dressed and meet me in the kitchen.” He picked up the bottle of shampoo on the floor then walked out and closed the door.
Ellie was shaking, partly from the exertion of her physical limitations and partly her reaction to Alex’s raw sexuality and the fact that he’d focused all of it on her. That wouldn’t be a problem if she wasn’t attracted to him, too.
“Stop it, Suellen Hart. Eyes on the prize.”
She dropped the towel and managed to get her robe on then hopped out of the bathroom and into the guest suite. It was a really big, beautiful room with a queen-size bed and matching oak armoire. There was a dressing table with mirror and bench where she could sit and do hair and makeup. How she would have loved to wash her hair, but that wasn’t a hill she’d die on tonight.
In spite of her vow to unpack for herself, Alex had done it. She found clean underthings and pulled out sweatpants that would fit over the cast and a T-shirt. After dressing, she found her way to the kitchen where Alex stood in front of the stainless-steel sink. His arms were folded over his chest, and he was looking very broody about something.
“Reporting for duty as ordered, sir.” If not for the crutches, she’d have saluted like a smart aleck. They still felt clumsy, but she managed to clunk and swing herself to a place right in front of him. “So, why am I here?”
The bottle of shampoo was beside him along with a dark blue terry-cloth towel. “You want your hair washed.”
“Everyone wants something they can’t have.”
“This isn’t one of them. You can bend over the sink and I’ll do the washing.” He pointed to the nozzle that pulled out and had a hose attached.
“Y’all don’t really have to do this. I promise not to blog or twitter about what a horrible host you are.”
“Look—” There was a whole lot of irritation in that single word. “I’m not going to waste my breath trying to talk you into this. Do you want to wash your hair or not?”
“Yes.” She moved closer before he changed his mind.
“Okay. This is how it will go. Brace yourself against the sink, hunch your shoulders forward and hold on. I’ll do the rest.”
“Got it.”
She did as instructed and closed her eyes, then felt him rake all her hair forward before the warm water wet it down. The shampoo was cold until he massaged the blob into fragrant, cleansing bubbles.
“That feels heavenly.” The thought sort of slipped out on a sigh and she really hoped he didn’t hear. When there was no comment, she figured the sound of the water had concealed the words.
In a weird way this was more intimate and erotic than being nearly naked in a towel. His body bumped and brushed against hers because he had to get in close. She felt his heat and innate confidence and strength in a way she’d never felt a man’s strength before. His fingers were strong yet gentle as he stroked from the nape of her neck, behind her ears and to her forehead. He washed longer than was probably necessary but Ellie didn’t mind. She could have stayed like that forever. But finally he rinsed, making sure all the soap was out. Conditioner would have been nice, but it wasn’t a good idea to push her luck.
When the water was off he said, “The towel is by your right hand. I’ll hold you steady while you put it around your hair.”
“Okay.”
His hands were solid and steady at her waist as she wrapped the towel into a turban on her head. Then he helped turn her so they were face-to-face. She was extraordinarily grateful for this gesture and wasn’t sure what to say.
“Thank you, Alex.” The words didn’t seem enough, and she was just close enough to touch her lips to his cheek. When she did, he tensed. “I really appreciate what you did. It was above and beyond the call of duty. You’re a very nice man.”
He backed away as if she’d slapped him. “Don’t.”
“What? I can’t help being grateful.”
“I’m no hero.” His voice was harsh and full of warning. “Far from it. I’m a selfish jerk.”
“Y’all are wrong about that.”
“No, I’m not.” His eyes narrowed. “Would a knight in shining armor be this close to hitting on a woman who’s injured?”
“Thinking is one thing. Doing is something else, and you didn’t go there.”
“Yet.”
That’s why he’d been so crabby; he’d been trying to distance himself.
He didn’t need to tell her the attraction simmering between them could go the same way it had that night on his boat. The warning was always there. She didn’t play fast and loose, and that was the only way he wanted to play. Both of them had equally compelling reasons to avoid anything intimate. So, here they were—between a rock and a hard place.
“I’ll find somewhere else to stay.”
“Damn it, Ellie—” He dragged his fingers through his hair and glared at her.
“What? We’ve already discussed this. I need this job and you don’t sleep with anyone in Blackwater Lake. We slipped up once and got away with it but the second time could be a problem.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
“I’ll call M.J. at the Blackwater Lake Lodge.”
“I thought you told me it was full,” he said.
“It is, but she said if I couldn’t find a place to call back and she’d help me.”
He shook his head. “Not a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Then the word spreads around town that I tossed you into the street with a broken ankle. That would put a black mark on my reputation as much as—”
Sleeping with a woman and causing hard feelings that could cost him business. She knew that was what he’d been a
bout to say. “Do you have a better solution? I’d love to hear it.” She thought for a minute. “You’ve got family in town. Couldn’t you stay with them?”
“For one thing, you’ll need help until after my brother does the surgery on your ankle. And if I move out, it sends the wrong message.”
“Which is?”
“That there’s something going on between us. They’ll make stuff up. That we can’t be trusted to live under the same roof.”
That was becoming the truth, she thought. “So you think it would cause more problems than it would solve?”
“Yes.” He settled his hands on lean hips and shook his head, then met her gaze. “I don’t think there’s any choice. You have to stay here.”
Ellie figured he knew this town pretty well and was probably right about this, so there was no alternative but to suck it up. Might as well put the most cheerful face on it. “We can do this. I’ll just stay out of your way. After all, this is a pretty big house.”
And he’d carried her through every square inch of it. Easily. As if she weighed nothing. Her heart wanted to sigh and swoon, but that was dangerous territory. She had her doubts that even the state of Montana would be big enough for them to avoid each other.
Chapter Six
Alex hadn’t slept well with Ellie under his roof. Hair washing might have been heavenly for her, but it sent him to the seventh level of hell.
The feel of all the thick silky strands sliding through his fingers had haunted his dreams and never let him forget that she was right down the hall and would kiss him back if he went to her. He could live to be a hundred years old and would never understand what had possessed him to volunteer for this torture. It probably had something to do with the forlorn expression on her face at realizing nothing in her life was normal and wouldn’t be for a while.
Of course, the situation being what it was, his life wouldn’t be normal, either. And now he was working in his study until Ellie woke up and could determine whether or not she’d be coming with him to the job site.
“There’s a strange woman in the guest room.”
Martha Spooner, his housekeeper, stood in the doorway. She showed up every weekday morning at seven and usually went to work without saying hello because more often than not he’d already left the house. Obviously today she’d done that and happened on Ellie because he’d forgotten to intercept her and explain about his houseguest.
“Good morning to you, too,” he said.
“It was good until I came across the strange woman in your guest room.”
“She’s from Texas and a little strange, I’ll admit, but pretty harmless.”
“She’s pretty. The rest is unknown.”
Martha was under five feet tall and so thin it was possible a good wind could carry her off. Barely sixty, she had short, curly salt-and-pepper hair and pale blue eyes that missed nothing. Her voice was deep and a little gravelly, a leftover from the smoking habit she’d kicked when she turned fifty and decided to get healthy for retirement. Personally, Alex thought she was still crabby from giving up nicotine, but Martha claimed it was an inherited trait from her mother’s side. Bettencourts were notoriously crabby people, which could explain why this one never married or had children. His personal opinion was that she’d never retire, and selfishly he hoped to be proven right about that.
She walked farther into the study, stopping on the other side of his flattop oak desk covered with blueprints, renderings and construction elevations. Without saying a word, she stared at him, giving him her “bad cop” look designed to get information even out of a hardened criminal.
“What?” he finally asked.
“You know good and well,” she said with a sternness that fooled no one into believing she wasn’t soft as mush inside. “You never bring women home. I heard a rumor once about you being gay, and no female in Blackwater Lake could independently confirm that it was false. I’m pretty sure you like females but could be prejudiced because I work for you. The point is that you don’t go out with anyone in town.”
He grinned. “You noticed.”
“Of course.” Her dark brown eyes narrowed. “There are a lot of women around here who feel it’s a man’s duty to change their single status. When one slips through their fingers like you have, it draws attention.”
Alex didn’t plan to change his single status because to do that he’d have to get married. The first time had been an unqualified disaster, and nothing about it compelled him to repeat the experience. If he’d started down the dating road after moving back to town, he would have drawn attention for disappointing those single women. That caused hard feelings, and grudges were bad for business.
“I’m being diplomatic. You know why I don’t get involved.”
Martha’s mouth pulled tight for a moment. “The former Mrs. McKnight.”
“Laurel—”
“I wouldn’t know. She insisted on being called Mrs.”
“Right.”
Alex had talked to the ex about that and she’d insisted that employees shouldn’t be on a first-name basis with the person signing the checks. “She’s not Mrs. McKnight anymore.”
She hadn’t wasted any time becoming Mrs. Someone Else after leaving Alex. And she’d taken his boy with her. He would always think of that child as his, though he’d had no legal rights.
“So, you’re stalling,” Martha said. “Who’s the lady and why is she here? Because Lord knows you’re not involved with her.”
He was doing his level best not to be. “How do you know that?”
“Hello.” Her tone clearly said duh. “She’s not in your bed. I can keep up this question-and-answer for a long time. And before you take that as a challenge, remember I’m on the clock. Your clock.”
There were times, this being one of them, when Alex wished she wasn’t the best housekeeper he’d ever had. He also wished he wasn’t extremely fond of her because she presented certain challenges.
He sighed in surrender. “Her name is Ellie Hart and she’s an architect.”
“I heard about her. She’s the one working on Mercy Medical Clinic with you.”
“That’s right.”
Alex explained the situation, all except the part where the two of them had slept together once.
“So you’re helping her out until she gets back on her feet.” Martha nodded thoughtfully.
“That’s all there is to it.”
The housekeeper stared at him suspiciously. “If you go out of your way to say there’s nothing else going on, it makes a person wonder what else is really going on.”
This was not the best time to remember the advice of his divorce attorney, which was to give away as little as possible and know when to stop talking. A little information plus the fact that Martha Spooner knew him really well wasn’t a good combination when trying to keep a situation off the small-town rumor radar.
“I can’t stop you from wondering,” he finally said.
“Got that right. I’m going to wonder the heck out of this, and so will the rest of the inquiring minds in Blackwater Lake.”
“Martha—”
“What?” The expression on her face was as innocent as she could get it, what with that gleam in her eyes. “This is honest-to-goodness news.”
“It’s not a big deal.”
She gave him a look that clearly stated, If you have to say it’s no big deal then it might, in fact, be a big deal. “I have a duty—”
“To?”
“To share interesting tidbits that I come across. Such as how, out of the goodness of your heart, you’re doing a nice thing for a stranger. Putting that poor woman with a broken ankle up because she can’t climb stairs. That’s a selfless act that people should know about.”
And this was one of the challenges. “Look, Martha, is there anything I can say to persuade you to keep this quiet?”
She tapped her lip, thinking for a moment. “Nope.”
A knock came from the open doorway, and Ellie stoo
d there balancing on her crutches. “Hi. Hope I’m not interrupting.”
“No.” Only his being grilled like raw meat and he couldn’t be sorry she’d stopped it. “Ellie Hart, this is my housekeeper, Martha Spooner.”
Ellie hobbled closer, then balanced and held out her hand. “It’s very nice to meet you.”
“Same here, Miss Hart.”
“Please call me Ellie.”
“I will.” Martha’s eyebrow went up, and she gave him a look that said, This one’s an improvement but I’m still withholding judgment.
“How’s the ankle?” he asked.
“It doesn’t hurt as much today. I’m ready to go to work.” She looked down at the sweats she was still wearing. “Well, almost ready.”
One look at her tousled, sun-streaked brown hair and fresh-faced prettiness and Alex was ready, too, but what popped into his mind had nothing to do with work. “It’s okay to take the day off. After all you’ve been through a lot in the last twenty-four hours.” He saw Martha’s look and added, “With your ankle, I mean.”
Ellie looked at him. “I’ll cut the day short if necessary, but it’s best to bank the time for later. Just in case.”
“Whatever you say.” He glanced at Martha and could almost see the wheels in her mind turning the words into something to put under the heading News.
“Okay, then. I’ll go get ready.” She used her friendly, dimpled smile on the housekeeper. “I’ll do my very best not to be a bother to you. I promise y’all won’t even know I’m here.”
If only, Alex thought, but his luck wasn’t that good. And it showed no signs of changing since Martha was practically quivering with excitement to share his situation. The two women left the room, and his housekeeper was promising coffee and breakfast.
He instantly abandoned any hope that the older woman would exercise discretion and keep this to herself. Shortly, the whole town would know that Ellie Hart was living with him. Some would accept the Good Samaritan explanation, but others not so much. There must be a way to head off the gossip.
Harlequin Special Edition July 2013 - Bundle 1 of 2: Marooned with the MaverickHer McKnight in Shining ArmorCelebration's Bride Page 25
