the dark
swirl of hair around his navel that descended into the towel. As
she held out the clean shorts, he brushed them away. “You can just
put them on the night table for tomorrow.”
“You’re planning to sleep in the buff?”
“I have ever since I’ve lived alone.” He took the
shorts from her. “But if catching a glimpse of my manly package
will disturb your maidenly sensibilities, I’ll wear—”
“No-o!” She snatched the underwear back, shocked by
her overwhelming disappointment. “I mean....uhh....I can close my
eyes if your nudity bothers me.”
Like she’d actually have the willpower to look away
from a magnificent specimen like Luke. She moved the wheelchair in
front of the bathroom door. “I was just surprised. I want you to be
comfortable.”
“Well, thank you very much, Nurse Fitzpatrick.” He
bowed at the waist, oblivious that his skimpy towel and all that
bronzed skin sucked the gallantry from his gesture. “I’ll do my
best not to flash you.”
“Don’t worry about it.” She waved her hand and
helped him into the chair. “I’ve seen penises before. The equipment
is essentially the same—give or take an inch.”
“Or two .” He grinned.
The big jerk actually wanted her to check him out. A
self-satisfied smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. That suited
her just fine. If she gave him the freedom to flaunt his masculine
attributes, then he couldn’t say a word when he caught a gander of
what he was missing.
~*~
Sabrina’s smug smile didn’t bode well for him. She
was definitely hatching some insidious plot to get under his skin.
Little did she know, she was already there.
He reclined on the bed and lifted his cast while she
folded a pillow under his calf.
“Keep your leg propped up. It’ll stop it from
throbbing quite so much.”
Great. But what did he do about his other appendage?
That was the ache that would really keep him awake.
When Sabrina had knelt in front of him and pulled
down his jeans, he’d nearly lost it. And if that fantasy hadn’t
turned him on enough, her skimpy tank top and snug, yoga pants were
likely to drive him insane.
The hem of her pink shirt ended just above her navel
and left a good two inches of her milky skin peeking out above her
waistband to torture him. Each time she reached for something the
hem rose and revealed even more of her luscious flesh.
She pulled the crisp sheet over him and plumped the
pillow under his head. “Are you comfortable?”
“Not quite.” He dug his good heel into the mattress
and lifted his hips. Reaching under the sheet, he yanked the towel
out from around him and handed it to her. “That should do it.”
Her gaze shifted to the rise in the sheet draped
over his hips, and her tongue flicked out to moisten her lips.
Every drop of blood in his head rushed south, leaving him
lightheaded. The peak in the fabric simply rose higher.
“I’ll go get you an icepack to reduce the
swelling.”
“What? No way. I’m not letting you freeze my—”
“Don’t worry. The cold will seep through the
fiberglass. If we don’t ice your ankle, the cast could get too
tight and cut off the circulation to your foot.”
“My ankle?
“Yes, your ankle. What the heck else did you think—”
Her eyes widened, and she clapped her hand over her mouth, stifling
a sputter. “Ohmigosh, you thought I meant—” Her gales of laughter
cut off her speech.
“It’s not that funny.”
“Yes,”—chest heaved as she gasped for air—“it
is.”
“What else would I think with the way you’ve been
ogling my crotch?”
“I’m sorry.” She wiped away the tears generated by
her giggles. “But when a guy keeps snapping to attention, a girl
gets the urge to salute.”
“Well, it wouldn’t keep happening if you’d stop
looking at me like I’m packing a foot-long wiener with the works in
my shorts.”
“A foot ? Come now, Luke, I find that one hard
to swall—” She cringed and headed for the door. “I don’t