Holly And Mistletoe. Susan Mallery

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      “Captain Haynes?” she said softly as she stared at the scarred hardwood floors. “Hi, I’m Holly Garrett. We met in the hospital. May I come in?”

      “Sure.”

      She paused, waiting to hear the rustle of bed sheets as he covered himself. There was only silence. She reminded herself that sick and injured people had a lot of similarities. They got frustrated, bored, tired of the pain and isolation. And if she was worried about him being naked, she wouldn’t look at anything below his neck.

      She drew in a deep breath, smiled broadly and stepped into the converted study.

      Thick drapes had been pulled over two sets of windows. In the daylight the room would get morning sun. A hospital bed had been set up in the center of the room. She was familiar with the model. The electric motor allowed the occupant to raise and lower both the head and the foot to find the most comfortable position. A low table had been pushed to one side, and there was a straight-back chair nearby.

      Holly ignored the patient for as long as she could, then gave a quick prayer for courage and turned her attention to him.

      He wasn’t naked. Not completely. Still, her breath caught in her throat, her heart started pounding and she had the uncomfortable feeling that she was turning bright red.

      Jordan had raised the back of the bed so he was in a nearly sitting position. Dark hair tumbled onto his forehead. Equally dark eyes studied her in return. She wasn’t sure if it was the shape of his masculine features, the set of his jaw or just a perception problem on her part, but she knew he was the best-looking man she’d ever seen. The muscles in her legs felt funny. It took her a moment to figure out they were shaking.

      Her gaze dipped to his bare chest and the sheet bunched around his waist. She swallowed, resisting the urge to run for cover. Sculpted muscles defined his shoulders, arms and the hard, flat region of his belly. He looked as if he were posing for a provocative calendar.

      “Searching for visible proof of my injuries?” he asked.

      Holly realized she’d been staring at him for several seconds. This time she didn’t have to guess about blushing. The heat climbed quickly from the edge of her collar to her cheeks. She ducked her head.

      “I…” What was she supposed to say?

      “Have a seat.”

      She sank into the straight-back chair and folded her hands on her lap.

      “You’re the lady with the cat,” he said.

      She risked a glance. He didn’t look annoyed. “Yes. You saved her. I stopped by to see how you were doing. I don’t mean to intrude.”

      He studied her as intently as she had studied him. His attention made her uncomfortable, but she didn’t feel she had the right to protest. Fair was fair.

      She smoothed a hand over her skirt and wondered what he saw when he looked at her. Blond hair and blue eyes, which sounded more exciting than they were. Curves, she thought grimly, knowing her five-year battle against an extra fifteen pounds had ended in an uneasy truce. The pounds didn’t multiply, and she stopped trying to make them go away. So her breasts and hips were a little larger than fashion dictated. She would survive.

      “Did you bring the cat to finish me off?” he asked at last.

      It took her a moment to realize he was teasing. She smiled. “Mistletoe is very sweet. I’m sure she didn’t mean to hurt you. She was just scared.”

      “Yeah, right. I saw the look in her eyes. She was glad I went over the side.” His gaze brushed across her face. “What happened to your hair?”

      “My hair?” She reached behind her head and touched her braid. “Nothing. I’m wearing it back.”

      “Let me see.”

      She half turned in her seat and tilted her head so he could see the French braid. She’d pinned the end up by the nape of her neck to form a loop.

      “I like it loose,” he said. “You’ve got beautiful hair.”

      “Oh.” She blinked. “Ah, thank you.”

      Had he just paid her a compliment? Holly figured he had. Why? Is that what men and women did? Was he flirting? No. Not with her. She wasn’t his type. Actually she didn’t know what his type would be, but she was pretty sure she was the furthest female from it. He was injured, that was all. Or possibly delirious.

      She cleared her throat and wished she’d had more experience with this kind of situation. The problem was she’d never spent any time with a man and his bare chest before.

      “I brought cookies,” she said. “They’re from the bakery. I don’t have a working kitchen yet, but when I do, I’ll make something from scratch. That is, if it wouldn’t be too inconvenient.”

      “I think I can handle the inconvenience of you baking me something,” he said, then smiled.

      The smile caught her unaware. Lines crinkled by his dark eyes. His teeth were white, and his handsome face became almost painfully beautiful. Everything inside her bubbled so much, she thought she might start floating around the room. Wow. She needed to get out more.

      “I’m pretty hungry,” he said. “Would you mind bringing me a couple of those cookies now? I’d get them myself, but I’m—” He motioned to the sheets.

      “Naked,” she said without thinking.

      “What? No. I’m not supposed to get up for a couple of days. I’m not naked.”

      Naked? Had she actually said naked? Holly covered her face with her hands and made a whimpering noise. “No,” she said. “I didn’t mean…That is, I…”

      “Holly?”

      He said her name softly. She thought about just running from the room, but her legs were too shaky to cooperate. “I didn’t mean that,” she murmured. “Louise said for me to tell you to put some clothes on, so I just sort of thought—”

      “It’s okay.”

      She risked sliding her hands down so they just covered her mouth, then she glanced at him. He wasn’t smiling, but he didn’t look mad. She breathed a sigh of relief and dropped her hands to her lap. “Sorry. Look, I’ll go get those cookies for you.”

      She rose to her feet and reminded herself of his injuries, which were, indirectly, her fault. Act like a nurse, she told herself. She knew how.

      “Are you on any medication?” she asked. “Pills you have to take with food?”

      “Nope.”

      She thought about testing for fever but knew she couldn’t disconnect enough to touch his forehead without swooning. She consoled herself with the thought that he didn’t look hot.

      She fought a giggle. Okay, yes, he looked hot, but sexy hot, not fever hot.

      Her body continued to tremble, but she tried to ignore it. After taking a СКАЧАТЬ