Free Hide Your Heart: A New Zealand Small Town Romance (Sexy New Zealand Beach Romance Far North Book 1) by Tracey Alvarez Page A

limped after him and tapped against the wood. “Lauren?”
    Footsteps shuffled on the other side and the door swung open.
    Oh. Dear God. He’d made a huge tactical error.
    Dressed in plaid boxers that left her smooth thighs bare, and an ancient white tee, thin enough to outline the jut of her nipples, Lauren stared at him with smoky eyes and rumpled hair.
    Desire, scalding and liquid, flushed through him.
    Nate stepped backward, his jeans suddenly a size too small. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. I’ll just—”
    “Is that blood?” She pointed at his foot.
    “More than likely, but it’ll—”
    “Come in and sit down. I’ll get the first aid kit.”
    He retreated farther from the light. Maybe she wouldn’t notice the ridge in his jeans growing bigger as her breasts brushed against the soft fabric. “Really, I’m fi—”
    She sent him a saccharine-sweet look with her eyebrow arched prettily. “I’m happy to drive you to the hospital, if you’d prefer?”
    “Touché.” He hobbled inside, trying not to get blood on her carpet as he slumped onto the nearest couch.
    Lauren returned from the kitchen and tossed him a roll of paper towels. “Tear off a section while I grab the kit.”
    She disappeared through the archway and he couldn’t resist tracking the sensual swing of her hips under those miniscule shorts. Swallowing a groan, he threw his head back against the couch. How could his toe still be bleeding when every gallon of blood had headed straight for his groin?
    Lauren came back a few minutes later, the first aid box tucked under one arm and a thick toweling robe wrapped tight around her. Just as well…Another glimpse of her lush curves would fry his remaining brain cells.
    “Did you cut yourself?” She hesitated beside the couch, looking as if she was about to treat the injury herself.
    Please no, or he’d embarrass himself by doing something dumb…like hauling her into his lap.
    “Stubbed my toe and now the nail has lifted.”
    “Ouch.” She opened the container and tossed him a box of heavy-duty adhesive bandages. “Here you go.” Then she escaped behind the kitchen counter, out of his sight.
    He tore the protective cover off a bandage. “I saw your light on when I was in the bathroom.”
    Behind him came the sound of a running tap. “I was having a cup of tea.”
    “Couldn’t sleep? Or are you up extra early to bake more muffins?”
    She released a small hum of amusement. “Is that a hint?”
    He chuckled, though becoming addicted to Lauren’s cooking wasn’t wise. Now that she’d halfway finished clearing the road to his house, he wouldn’t get to sample many more batches of her home baking.
    “I couldn’t sleep,” she said.
    Nate stood and limped to the kitchen. He rested a hip against the counter. “Insomnia?”
    “Yeah, but it’s not fatal.” She tried to play it down with a roll of her eyes.
    “Just soul destroying after a while.”
    She finished rinsing her mug and dried it with brisk, efficient movements. “I’m used to it.”
    He stepped closer, the sweet, female smell of shampoo and flowers addling his brain. “How long has it been a problem?”
    “A number of years, on and off.” She set the mug on the counter, where it rattled a short tattoo until she pried her fingers from the handle. “It gets worse when I’m stressed.”
    “Do I cause you stress?”
    Her teeth nipped the curve of her lip. “Yes.”
    Before he could counter the urge, his knuckles skimmed along her scar, a five centimeter, raised crescent that must’ve hurt like hell when the injury occurred. She stared at him wide-eyed and jerked back, causing his fingers to trail a lingering caress down the line of her jaw before they fell away.
    “Stop touching me. Please.”
    “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
    Lauren tilted her chin even as the walls slammed down in her eyes. Her nostrils flared as her breathing accelerated.
    “Did your ex do that?”
    She flinched but refused