Texas Hunt. Barb Han

      “I can step into the hallway for a minute to give you privacy while you dress if you’d like.” Ryan placed the clothes on the bed next to where she stood.

      “Here’s the thing. I’m going to need your help.” She smiled weakly.

      His gray-blue eyes darkened to steel. An almost-pleading look crossed his features for a nanosecond. Then he half smirked. “I guess it would be weird for a husband to leave the room while his wife dressed.”

      “Hadn’t even thought of that. It shouldn’t take too long and I probably only need help getting things over my big size eights.” Did she just complain about her shoe size? Was she rambling? The thought of Ryan in the room with her while she was completely naked was almost too much.

      “I happen to like your feet.” He helped her ease onto the bed and then he pulled the blanket over her, covering her midsection. With athletic grace he moved around to the other side of the bed, behind her, and then untied each bow on her hospital-issued gown.

      Gently, he rolled the material down her arms. His breath was so close it warmed the sensitive skin along the back of her neck.

      The white cloth hit the floor in front of her. She secured her sheet as Ryan moved in front of her. She was so aware of just how naked she was beneath her cover and how thin the material was that kept her cloaked. She white-knuckle gripped the seam with one hand while she reached for her clothes with the other. Thankfully, her ribs weren’t broken, just a hairline fracture on one, the doctor had said, but the pain was still excruciating.

      Without saying a word, he bent down and then cradled her ankle in his hand. He slipped her black lace panties over one foot, then two and she could’ve sworn she heard him groan.

      Her body went rigid trying to fight the attraction overwhelming her senses.

      His hands moved up the sides of her legs, his eyes trailed and when his skin touched hers it blazed a hot trail.

      She lifted her bottom long enough for him to slide the panties around her hips. He didn’t immediately move. His hands rested on either side of her.

      Lisa couldn’t remember the last time she felt this intimate with a man. Maybe never.

      A few seconds later and with similar ease, Ryan slipped her shorts on.

      At least for her bra he stood behind her and she couldn’t see his intense expression—intense because they both had to know deep down that anything more than friendship between the two of them would be a bad idea.

      After her bra and then halter had been secured, he moved to her side, eyes down. Was he thinking about the kiss they’d shared, too?

      He lifted his head and made a move to speak.

      The door opened, interrupting the moment. And that was probably for the best. The last thing Lisa needed to hear was just how much he regretted their lips touching. Or worse, an apology.

      The nurse pushed a wheelchair in front of her. She helped Lisa into the seat and then handed her a stack of papers on a clipboard. The words Against Medical Advice had been scribbled in huge letters across the first page.

      Lisa initialed all the places the nurse had highlighted as Ryan positioned himself behind the chair.

      When she’d signed for what felt like the hundredth time, he wheeled her out of the room, off the floor and into the night.

      The air was still hot. It was the time of year in Texas when she went to bed and it was hot, she woke and it was hot. Midday, the rubber soles on her shoes could practically melt against the sweltering pavement.

      “I’m parked in the front row,” he said, his voice still husky.

      “That was lucky.”

      “Turns out there aren’t that many visitors in the middle of the night,” he said, and she could tell he was smiling without looking at him. She could hear it in his voice.

      “Thank you for breaking me out. If Nurse Ratchet had her way, I’d be zonked out with an IV drip that would have me slobbering down my chin as she spoon-fed me mashed potatoes.”

      “Not a problem.” He chuckled. “I’m not that big on sleep, anyway.”

      “Either way, I owe you a big favor for everything you’ve done today.”

      “It’s nothi—

      “Hold on a second. What the hell’s going on?” He abruptly stopped. Based on the shift in tone, this wasn’t going to be good news.

      “What is it?”

      “Someone slashed my tires.”

      “You haven’t been here for long. Whoever did this must be close.” Lisa glanced around and gasped. “He must still be here.”

      “I’ll arrange another ride. We need to get you inside.” He spun her chair around and wheeled her toward the hospital as she kept watch for any signs of movement in her peripheral.

      Ryan parked her near the elevator, away from the automatic sliding glass doors. His cell phone was already at his ear by the time Lisa could see him again.

      “Who are you calling this late?” she asked, panic written all over her features.

      “Dawson lives close,” Ryan said, the line already ringing.

      “Please don’t say anything,” she begged. That damn desperation still in her tone.

      Their friend picked up on the third.

      “I’m at the hospital with Lisa and we need a ride.” He paused, not eager to lie to his friend. “Must’ve picked up a nail on my way over. Left tire’s flat.”

      Ryan said a few uh-huhs into the phone before he ended the call. “He’s on his way.”

      She couldn’t quite feel relief yet; maybe it was hope. Her danger radar was on full alert after everything she’d been through. Every noise made her jumpy.

      “Is there any way you’d consider not sharing any of this with Dawson yet?” she pleaded.

      “I don’t even know what’s really going on.” Ryan kept his fisted hands at his sides as he kept watch.

      A few quiet minutes later, Dawson pulled up in his SUV.

      Ryan looked Lisa dead in the eye before he made a move to help her. “I won’t force you to say anything in front of Dawson. We’re going to my house. And when we get there, you’re going to start talking.”