Free Bodyguard Under the Mistletoe by Cassie Miles Page B

seem like the same man who’d nearly collapsed. “The oatmeal cured you.”
    â€œNo doubt.”
    She reached toward his shoulder and lightly touched the bulge of bandages under his blue flannel shirt. “Do you need help changing the dressings?”
    Too easily, she imagined peeling away his shirt and gliding her fingers across his bare chest. A rising tide of sudden warmth elevated her temperature. Her skin prickled with sensual awareness that penetrated deeper, causing her blood to race. It had been a very long time since she’d felt this kind of arousal, and she didn’t know what to do about it.
    â€œYou’re blushing,” he said.
    â€œAm I?” She pulled her hand back. Fantasizing about him wasn’t appropriate. He’d only agreed to stay with herbecause of an imagined debt to her late husband. She needed to be careful not to misinterpret his kindness as something else.
    Jesse glided the back of his hand along her cheek. “I like the color in your face.”
    Oh, good . Because she felt as if she was turning bright red from the roots of her hair to her toenails. She was glad to realize that it definitely wasn’t kindness that emanated from him. “Your eyes.”
    â€œWhat about them?”
    â€œThe color is like a glaze I use in pottery. Rich, dark, coffee-brown.”
    â€œI’d like to see some of your work.”
    That should be a cue to take him into her studio. To put some distance between them. But she didn’t want to separate. Instead, she leaned closer. The tips of her breasts were mere inches away from his chest. She tilted her chin up.
    When their lips met, the teasing warmth became a powerful torrent. She actually felt as if she were being transported, swept away by one gentle kiss. Never before had she experienced anything like this. Excitement rushed through her, leaving her breathless.
    Gasping, she stepped backward, out of his embrace. Looking into his face, she saw her desire reflected. She knew, without a doubt, that this attraction could only end one way. Soon, they would be in each other’s arms. Soon, they would be making love. Am I ready? Is it time?
    Her longing was tempered with panic. She’d never imagined that she’d be able to feel this way. She was a widow with a small child, resigned to a life of responsibility without passion. How could this be happening? “Jesse, I—”
    He laid his finger across her lips, stopping her words. “No need to speak.”
    He was right. These churning emotions required no explanation. She could trust the way she felt and know that he’d felt it, too. For now, that was enough.
    â€œFiona.” His voice caressed her name.
    â€œYes?”
    â€œI appreciate your offer to change my dressings, but Wentworth will be here soon. He’s a medic. He likes messing around with surgical stuff.”
    She might enjoy messing around, too. Tell him . She wanted another kiss. If she let this moment pass, it might not come again. Which was a good reason not to tell him. But it’s too soon. And I’m afraid .
    She cleared her throat and took another step back. “I have an ointment that might be soothing. When I’m sculpting, it seems like I’m always getting cuts and burns on my hands.”
    â€œSome kind of nontraditional medicine?” he asked.
    â€œI didn’t make it myself, but all the ingredients are from nature.”
    â€œMy grandfather had a remedy for healing, made from creosote bush, prickly pear and some mysterious herb with a Navajo name I can’t pronounce.” His smile turned nostalgic. “He believed the strongest medicine came from within. Trusting your body to heal itself.”
    â€œYou’ve mentioned your grandfather before.” She wanted to know more about Jesse. “Tell me about him.”
    â€œHe lived on the reservation.”
    She returned to her seat at the table, and he did the same. Though she