Holly And Mistletoe. Susan Mallery
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drew in a deep breath. The edges of the robe trembled slightly but didn’t part any more. Staring at them was screwing up his concentration, so he lowered his gaze to her lap, where she rested her hands.
“Plumbing? Oh!” She seemed to realize how she was dressed. She touched her wet hair, then pulled the collar of the robe together and held it tight. “I, um, I don’t really have an apartment.”
He drew his eyebrows together and stared at her. “Where are you living?”
“At the shop.” She gave him a quick smile. “It’s really very nice. There’s plenty of furniture. Some of the sofas are very comfy. I have a sleeping bag, a hot plate and a small refrigerator. There’s even a bathroom, but it doesn’t have a shower. So I asked Louise if it was all right for me to use the shower here. You were sleeping, or I would have asked you.”
“You can’t live there,” he said.
“Why not? It’s perfectly safe. I didn’t have renter’s insurance, and right now I can’t afford to replace everything I lost, let alone come up with first and last months’ rent. But right after the holidays everything should be fine. It’s only for a few weeks.”
She was talking quickly, and he wondered if it was to cover her nervousness. He figured it was. Now that she was no longer acting as his nurse, she was shy and embarrassed.
As he watched, the fingers at her collar tightened. “Go get dressed,” he said gruffly, then closed his eyes as she scurried from the room.
When she was gone, he raised his arm to cover his eyes. He didn’t want to think about Holly Garrett living alone in her store. After six the shopping district was deserted. She could get into trouble, and no one would be around to call for help. To make matters worse, thinking about her living there made him think about her not having access to a shower and instead using his.
She’d been so soft and tempting in his robe. His mind filled with a hundred different ways he could take them both to breathlessness and back. But he wasn’t going to act on any of them. He was too old and cynical for a woman like her.
For a moment a flicker of regret raced through him. Regret for all he’d never experienced and for all he would never have. If he were someone else, if circumstances were different, he could pursue his interest in Holly. He could woo her slowly, risk caring about her and being cared about in return.
A fantasy, he told himself, even as he acknowledged the fantasy was a hell of a lot better than reality. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in love; he just didn’t like the consequences.
Seconds later the noise that had awakened him returned. It was a low-pitched yowl. Before he could make up his mind about the risk of trying to get out of bed again, Holly returned carrying a large gray cat.
He eyed the beast distastefully. He recognized the face. That cat was responsible for him being laid up. He thought about grabbing the creature and expressing his feelings, but in his weakened condition he didn’t dare. The cat stared back at him, dislike gleaming from its bright green eyes. He figured the cat had gotten the best of him once, and that had been while he was healthy. God knows what it could do to him now.
Holly shifted the massive feline in her arms and smiled. “This is Mistletoe. Mistletoe, this is the brave man who saved your life.”
Man and cat glared at each other. Neither was impressed.
“Mistletoe is a pedigreed Persian,” Holly said, then set the animal on the floor. “I hope you don’t mind that I brought her over. She’s very special to me.”
At the sound of her name, the cat glanced up at Holly, then purred and rubbed against her legs. When the feline completed the circle, she looked at Jordan and flattened her ears.
He stared back. “She’s pretty fat.”
“She’s pregnant.”
He had a moment of guilt for thinking evil thoughts about an expectant mother, then realized Mistletoe would probably pass her bad temper on to her offspring.
“I don’t like to leave her alone at night,” Holly said. “She’s very well behaved. She won’t be any trouble.”
“Yeah, right,” he muttered.
Holly picked up the cat and walked toward the bed. “Maybe you should pet her and get acquainted.”
Mistletoe began to squirm. Holly set her on the foot of the bed. The cat glared at him. He glared back. She arched her back, gave a sharp pftt, then jumped down and stalked away.
Holly stared after her. “I don’t understand. She’s really very sweet and loves everyone.”
“Uh-huh,” Jordan said, knowing he’d just been insulted by a twenty-pound monster.
“I’m sure she’ll adore you once she gets to know you.”
Mistletoe had already sent him off the balcony of a building. He would hate to see what the cat was capable of when she put her mind to something.
Holly curled up in the chair Louise had brought into Jordan’s temporary bedroom. The overhead light was off. The only illumination came from two floor lamps in opposite corners.
Jordan sat up in bed with the sheet bunched around his waist. They’d finished dinner and were sipping coffee. Holly was pleased with how far she’d come. Despite being in the same room with a good-looking man and his handsome chest, she was able to talk like a normal person. Definitely an improvement over the first day. Jordan still had the power to make her blush, but that was getting better, too.
She studied his face and eyes, searching for signs of fever or pain. “How do you feel?”
“That’s the third time you’ve asked me, Holly. I’m fine.” Then he smiled.
She bit back a sigh. Okay, she was able to survive the bare chest and witty conversation, but the smile…That smile could still reduce her legs to the consistency of whipped cream. She leaned forward and set her coffee mug on the nightstand before she did something stupid like dropping it.
“I’m concerned about that fever coming back.” She rose to her feet and leaned over the bed. She touched his forehead, then his cheeks. “You’re cool to the touch.”
“You do that very well.” He raised his eyebrows. “Lots of practice?”
“With my mom.”
“How long was she sick?”
Holly settled back in her chair. “Ten years. I was fifteen when she found a lump in her breast. It was cancer. At first they just took the lump out, but then the cancer came back.” She closed her eyes, recalling the terror of that time. Her mother had been her only parent. Because it was just the two of them, they were very close. She’d tried to be strong, but all she could think about was what was going to happen to her when her mother died.
“That’s a lot to handle when you’re fifteen,” he said.
She nodded. “She had the usual treatments, but she was really sick. I guess some people tolerate them better. There were a lot of times I missed school to be with her.”
“What else did you miss?” he asked, his voice low and concerned.
She opened her eyes and stared at him. “What do you mean?”
“You were a teenager. Most kids have a hard enough time dealing with school and growing up. You had your mother to worry about. You must have missed out on a lot.”
Her eyes burned, and for a brief second she was afraid she was going to cry. Then she sat up straighter and blinked several times until the burning went away.
“Thank you,” she said.
“For what?”
“For saying that. No one really noticed before. I was just a teenager, but I was expected