Free Conflict of Interest (The McClouds of Mississippi) by Gina Wilkins

easy. You need to get some more sleep.”
    “How did you know my leg was hurting?” she asked huskily.
    “I heard you moan in your sleep when I walked past the door. Thought I’d better check on you.”
    He didn’t expect gushing gratitude for his solicitude, but he was a bit taken aback when she muttered crossly, “I really didn’t need the pills. I would have been fine without them.”
    He reminded himself that he didn’t like people hovering over him when he was under the weather, either. He’d been told, in fact, that he was a nightmare of a patient, but she could have at least said thanks for caring that she’d been hurting. “Just lie back and let the pills kick in. You can yell at me for my presumption tomorrow after you’ve had a good night’s sleep.”
    She gave a soft sigh and reached out to catch his arm when he would have moved away. “Gideon, I’m sorry if I sounded ungracious. It’s just that I hate being incapacitated in any way. I’m used to taking care of myself.”
    He settled onto the edge of the bed again. “I understand that. I don’t much like doing what I’m told, either, especially when it’s for my own good.”
    That made her smile a little. “But I do appreciate you checking on me. It was very kind of you.”
    He glanced down at her hand, which still lay on his bare arm, and it occurred to him that he should probably get the hell out of there. Immediately, if not sooner. “I am not a particularly nice person,” he felt the need to tell her. “You can ask anyone.”
    She responded to that with a soft laugh. “I prefer to make up my own mind about whether someone is nice.”
    He really needed to get out of there, before he did something stupid, like making a clumsy pass at his injured agent.
    “Yeah, well, I just don’t want you to get the wrong impression of me,” he muttered, and shoved himself to his feet while he was still able to do so. “I’m basically surly and self-centered and I like being that way.”
    She still sounded amused when she nestled more deeply into the covers and murmured, “Good night, Gideon.”
    Feeling like a fool, he didn’t look back as he made a beeline for the door. “’Night.”
    This was what he got, he told himself, for acting completely out of character and trying to take care of other people instead of himself. As soon as his mother returned to take Isabelle off his hands, and Adrienne had healed enough to make the trip back to New York, he was reclaiming his solitude.
    “Gideon?” Isabelle’s sleepy voice floated through the open doorway of the guest room. “Is that you?”
    “Yes, Isabelle. Everything’s fine, you can go back to sleep.”
    “Could I have a drink of water?”
    He sighed heavily. “Hang on a minute. I’ll bring you one.”
    And then, he vowed, he was going to lock himself in his office again. And he would stay there this time.

Chapter Five
    I t must have been the pain pills that made Adrienne sleep later than usual Wednesday morning. Even the bright sunlight from the window didn’t rouse her. It was nearly 9:00 a.m. when she forced open her gritty eyes and peered at the clock. Normally she would be at her office by this time, wide awake and already inundated with calls and e-mail.
    Pushing her hands through her hair, she eased upright, moving her right leg with care. Her ankle was still bruised and swollen upon inspection, but maybe just a little less sore than it had been? An experimental flex made her teeth clench. Okay, maybe not.
    Rubbing the back of her neck, she wondered for a moment if she had dreamed Gideon’s middle-of-the-night visit. Had he really sat rumpled and shirtless on the side of her bed, supporting her while she had washed down the pain pills? She remembered, if fuzzily, that his touch had been very gentle, though his voice had been characteristically gruff.
    She went all warm inside just thinking about it.
    It took her a while to shower and dress, since she was still barely able to put