Free The Devil Inside by Kate Davies Page A

lying to more—her mother, or herself.

    He was sitting up against the headboard when Sam came into the room. “Good, you’re awake.”
    “I’m getting a little tired of sleeping all day and all night,” Cody grumbled, knowing he was being less than gracious, but at this point not really caring.
    She walked over to the bed and placed her wrist on his forehead, checking his temperature. Her touch was professional, detached, completely asexual.
    And it gave him a hard-on that wouldn’t quit.
    Luckily, she wasn’t looking at his crotch, so it wasn’t an issue at the moment.
    But if she didn’t get her sweet-smelling hair and long-lashed eyes and soft, gentle hands away from him, it might become an issue pretty damn quickly.
    Gritting his teeth against the pain, he bent one leg, lifting the covers off his waist. She reached for the edge of the comforter and he flinched, subsiding only when it became clear that she was just trying to pull it up to cover him, not remove it.
    “Are you doing okay?”
    “I’m fine,” he said roughly, trying to will his erection away. “Trust me.”
    She muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “that’ll be the day.”
    He wasn’t going there. He was not.
    Because he had a sneaking suspicion that he wouldn’t like the story behind that statement.
    Instead, he closed his eyes and waited for her to finish so he could be alone with his thoughts again.
    “You seem to be recovering well,” Sam said, moving away from the bed.
    Cody cracked one eye open. “God, I hope so.”
    She smiled. “Going a little stir crazy, are you?”
    He nodded, glad that for once he hadn’t given himself a pounding headache with the gesture. “No offense.”
    “Well, I have some good news for you.”
    He opened the other eye. “You got my deposit back on the hotel room?”
    “Oh. That reminds me.” She fished in her pocket and pulled out a dog-eared business card. “Mr.—” she squinted at the print, “—Gellert needs your verbal confirmation that you don’t need the room anymore. You’d better give him a call soon.”
    He took the card from her and put it on the nightstand next to the phone. “Speaking of calls…”
    She eyed him suspiciously.
    “I called my mom while you were gone. Thought she’d like to hear how things were going. I hope you don’t mind.”
    “No, of course not.” She shook her head. “I should have suggested it earlier, or at least called her myself.”
    “Don’t worry about it. She’d already heard about the accident. I think she just wanted to get the news directly from me so she could stop worrying. At least, not more than usual.”
    Sam sat down on the mattress, her thigh almost touching his. “This must have just about killed her.”
    “I don’t know. Twenty years of worrying about my dad toughened her up a little.” He smiled. “She was glad to hear I’m in good hands.”
    Sam blushed at the compliment. “I’m just doing my job.”
    They both knew it was a lie, but he let it go anyway.
    “Did you run into trouble at the hotel? It took you a long time to get back.”
    “Oh, I stopped by the rodeo on the way home, too. Mr. DeLong sends his best wishes.”
    She’d stopped by the rodeo? After boycotting it—with good reason—for thirteen years?
    But before he could say anything, she changed the subject again.
    “And I have your stuff, too, so I’ll bring that in next. I just wanted to check on you and see how you were doing.”
    “Thanks.” He leaned back. “So which of that was the good news?”
    Her brow furrowed. “Huh?”
    “You said you had good news. I mean, the idea of having clean clothes is pretty exciting right now, but…”
    “Oh!” Clearing her throat, she said, “No, it’s something completely different. Dr. Miller is going to stop by tomorrow to see how you’re doing. If he approves, I think we’ll be able to help you switch venues.”
    “I’ll be leaving?” Somehow, the news didn’t fill his heart with joy.