Holly And Mistletoe. Susan Mallery
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When Holly straightened, the cat took off to explore another part of the house. Holly moved through the library, then tiptoed into the study.
Jordan was sprawled out on the rented hospital bed. One dark lock of hair tumbled across his forehead. While he was asleep, he appeared a little younger, although just as good-looking. Her heart did its usual rapid patter against her ribs, but she was learning to accept the fluttery sensation. It was just part of the price she paid to spend time with him.
She reached out and touched his face. He was warm but not hot. If he’d spiked a fever, it seemed to have faded. Also, he was sleeping soundly without the restlessness that accompanies fever.
She studied him for a few minutes, examining the strong line of his jaw, his straight nose, the faint stubble on his chin. Sometimes while they were talking, she had the oddest sensation of being part of a play or a movie. It didn’t feel real. What was she doing here?
But she didn’t dare question her good fortune. Even though she’d never had much opportunity to spend time with men, she’d always dreamed about what it would be like to know one. Jordan was everything she’d imagined the perfect man would be. He was kind, funny, charming and when he looked at her a certain way, she could feel her bones melting. It would be easy to have a crush on him…or worse.
But she wouldn’t. First of all, she’d heard a little about the Haynes brothers from people in town. They had a reputation for being heartbreakers. She might as well try to learn ice skating at a U.S. Olympic team workout. She was completely out of her league. Not only was she a virgin, but she hadn’t kissed a single male since she was fifteen. Talk about being out of the loop.
The second reason she wouldn’t dare fall for Jordan Haynes was that as much as she might daydream about a man, even marriage, she knew it wasn’t in the cards for her. Not because no one would love her. She liked to think that one or two people might think she was special. The real reason was that love required trust, and she’d been let down too many times. She couldn’t imagine ever trusting anyone again.
She pulled the sheet higher up his bare chest, then left the room and hurried down the hallway toward the bathroom. She’d spent the past three days longing for a shower and she was going to enjoy every minute of this one.
A hideous howling broke through Jordan’s dream and jerked him into consciousness. He sat up in bed, then groaned as pain ripped through his muscles. He shouldn’t have gotten up earlier, as Louise had told him gleefully.
He shook his head and tried to figure out what was wrong. His brain was fuzzy, and he couldn’t focus on anything. There’d been a sound. A—
The howling came again. Someone or some thing was being tortured. He threw back the sheet and tried to rise to his feet. The floor shifted. Or maybe it was him. He gripped the nightstand with one hand and the table by his bed with the other, then pushed up. As he locked his muscles, he realized he’d made one fatal error of judgment. He’d forgotten the hospital table had wheels.
It shot out from under him and went flying across the room. Jordan lost his balance and tumbled toward the floor. He braced one arm to save himself, but it gave way and he hit the hardwood on his already bruised shoulder.
Footsteps sounded in the hallway.
“Jordan?”
It was Holly. She would be relieved to find out he wasn’t naked under his sheet but instead wore shorts over his briefs. Then his eyes closed, and he couldn’t think about anything but the pain.
“Jordan, what happened?”
“I heard something. Howling. Tried to get up.”
“You fell. Are you hurt?”
He hurt like a son of a bitch. She raised his head to her lap, then stroked his face. He opened his eyes.
For a moment he stared at her, then he blinked, certain he must have hit his head when he fell. She was wearing a white robe and nothing underneath. He knew because the robe had parted, exposing the curve of one breast and the first hint of the rosy skin around her nipple.
He sucked in a breath. Her hair was wet and tumbling around her shoulders. Her eyes darkened with concern, and the fingers on his face were gentle and comforting.
Maybe he was dead. If this was heaven, who was he to complain?
Chapter Four
“Jordan?” Holly said, her voice laced with concern. “Please say something. Are you hurt?”
“I’m okay.” He forced the words through the pain and awareness battling in his body. He couldn’t remember hurting this bad before, nor could he remember being this instantly aroused. It was an odd combination that again made him wonder if he had clipped his head on his way down.
“Do you think you can get back into bed?” she asked, then glanced from him to the mattress. “I doubt I can lift you by myself.”
“I can manage. Just give me a minute.” He continued to stare up at her face. She smelled like shampoo and soap. Her pale skin almost glowed in the early-evening lamplight. Her chest rose and fell with each breath, and the edge of the robe slipped open a little more, exposing a taut nipple and the underside of her breast.
Heat coiled low in his belly. The pain from his injuries and the ache from his groin set up a low-frequency hum that had him holding in a moan. He couldn’t continue to torture himself this way, he thought grimly.
He rolled to his side, then started to push himself up to his knees. Holly scrambled to her feet and bent over, grabbing him around his chest and adding her strength to his. Together they moved slowly to the bed. Jordan dragged himself onto the mattress. Holly lifted his legs into place, then bent over and smoothed the sheet over him.
“Better?” she asked. “Do you want a painkiller?”
He shook his head, which surprisingly only hurt a little. “I’ll be fine.”
“You sure?” She sat on the bed next to him. Her hip bumped his.
“Yeah,” he murmured, trying not to notice that now he could see her other breast.
She bent close and touched his forehead. “You feel a little warm.”
“I’m sure it will pass.”
She frowned. “I hope you’re not spiking another fever.”
He glanced at the deep V exposed by the oversize robe. “I’m sure that’s not it.”
She was so intent on his condition, she didn’t notice she was flashing him. He wasn’t sure if he should be pleased or insulted. While he appreciated the concern, no man wanted to be considered as sexually interesting as a eunuch.
“How did you end up on the floor?” she asked.
He’d almost forgotten the circumstances that had brought Holly rushing to his side. He rubbed his temple as he tried to remember. “I heard a noise.”
“What was it?”
“I can’t remember. I was asleep and something woke me. I got up to see what it was.”
“Maybe you were dreaming.”
“Maybe.” He stared at her for a moment, for the first time really taking in the oversize robe and her wet hair. He reached out and fingered a damp strand. “What have you been up to?”
Holly blushed, then turned her head away. “I, ah, was sort of using your shower. I hope you don’t mind.”
He wanted to say she could use it anytime, but only on the condition he got to watch. Though he figured she wouldn’t know he was kidding. Then he realized he wasn’t kidding. Had it been that long since he’d been with a woman, or was it specifically that Holly Garrett intrigued him?
Dangerous