about going native—tough to hide your sins. His fingers weren’t the only thing that was stiff.
She cleared her throat. “I see what you mean about this being hard.”
That was the understatement of the millennium. “Yeah, it’s hard, all right.”
She moved to his side, a soft blush staining her fair cheeks. “So I’ll just help you this time, and hopefully you’ll get some more use out of those fingers in the near future. Then you can go back to doing it yourself.”
That wasn’t at all what he had in mind. “Ah, now, that’s no fun. Why would I want to do it myself when you could do a much better job?”
Her dark eyes narrowed. “Do I look like a slave to you?”
No, but she sure looked great with her hair curling around her face and her full lips trying hard not to smile. “Seems to me, Ms. Lewis, that since I’m in the chair with a cracked leg and a sorry hand, and you’re holding the razor, that pretty much makes me a slave to your whims.”
“Put your knees together,” she said.
Man, she had noticed. “Why?”
“So I can get to you better”
She was already getting to him. Really getting to him. After he complied, she stood in front of him again, this time straddling his legs stretched out before him, thankfully avoiding his cast. If she tripped, she’d end up on top of him, and God only knew what he would do then. Nothing that would be appropriate.
She tilted his head back to shave his neck up to his chin. “And what whims do you think I might be entertaining, Dr. Granger?”
“Cutting my throat?” He’d be cutting his own throat if he didn’t watch what he said from here on out. She might just turn tail and run.
This time she smiled as she swished the razor in the basin then brought it back to his chin. “I doubt I could do that with this thing, but you’ve just given me an idea. I planned to bring an electric razor when I came back. Instead, I’ll bring a straight razor. How’s that?”
“No need to use force. Just tell me what you need, and I’ll do my damnedest to comply.” And whatever she needed, he’d willingly give it to her, even if it took all night.
Her blush deepened as if she’d read his mind. It made her all the more pretty. All the more tempting. “Right now just be still. We’re almost done here, then I need to go.”
Jared didn’t want to be still. He couldn’t be still. Not with her so close that he could experience her heat, smell her clean woman’s scent mixed with the smell of his shaving cream. Not when she had her long fingers framing his face while the steady brush of the razor over his beard kept time with his pounding pulse. Not when he had a bird’s-eye view of her white knit shirt pulled tight, revealing the outline of her bra and high round breasts.
“Okay, all done.” She stepped away from him and dropped the razor into the basin, then stood studying her handiwork. “Wow, you almost look civilized.”
Jared didn’t feel the least bit civilized. In fact, he felt untamed, wild with some deep-seated need to pull her into his lap, take the can of shaving cream and make good use of it in other, more interesting endeavors. Take that hellacious lab coat off her shoulders and see exactly what was underneath.
“Great,” he said to keep from groaning. “I’m glad I got through that relatively unscathed.” Relatively was the key word in this instance.
She braced one hand on her hip and tossed her curls away from her face with the other hand. “Admit it, Dr. Granger. I did a great job.”
He ran a hand over his jaw. “Yeah, you did a great job.”
“Thanks.” She grinned.
And Jared’s heart nearly came to a complete stop. Suddenly he didn’t want her to leave. He wanted her to stay, if only to enjoy her company and nothing more. But he wouldn’t ask that of her. Not tonight.
She picked up her bag while he struggled to get up from the chair. His butt was numb from sitting so long. Not that he’d run any races lately. But he had walked around the acreage some, when he wasn’t stretched out on the sofa watching sports on TV.
He followed her out the door and once on the porch, she turned to him. “I expect that when I return on Monday, I’ll find you’ve been doing your home therapy more often.”
He braced his crutch under his arm and gave her a less-than-enthusiastic left-handed salute. “You bet, captain.”
“And when I come back, I’m hoping that maybe you’ll have called your housekeeper to come clean some of the mess.”
“I’ll think about it. If you’ll do me another favor.”
She leaned one shoulder against the wall and sighed. “What is it this time? Clean your oven?”
He couldn’t contain his smile. “Nothing like that. Next time you come here, wear your street clothes. You’re in the country, and this is my home, not the hospital.”
She studied him a long moment. “Yeah, you’re absolutely right. This isn’t the hospital. I’ll be sure to wear jeans. How’s that?”
“Suits me fine.” He could just imagine Brooke in jeans, and that thought almost unraveled his slender thread of control.
She checked her watch. “It’s late. I better get going.”
He hadn’t even noticed the time. She’d made the hours pass quickly with her easy conversation and acerbic wit. And he still didn’t want her to go.
“You know, I should’ve had you come earlier so you wouldn’t be driving home in the dark,” he said to buy a few more minutes. “Why don’t you come at five next time?
“Okay. I’ll rearrange my schedule.”
He rested against the wall, facing her. “Do you want me to ride back into town with you?”
“Then how would you get back?”
“I wouldn’t have to come back. I could spend the night on your sofa.” Now why the hell had he said that?
She gave him a disparaging look. “Yeah, right. My sister is between apartments right now. She’s on my sofa.”
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