Caught in the Act. Lori Foster
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His good arm came up, his hand, incredibly large and rough, clasped her shoulder, and he levered her away. For a man in a sickbed, he had surprising strength and was far too quick.
And he looked angry. And protective.
Excitement skittered down her spine, while tenderness welled in her chest.
The door opened again and Zack, the man who was a little nicer than Josh, started in. He jerked to a halt when he saw them both on the bed, nose-to-nose. Startled, Zack began to backpeddle, only to change his mind once more when he spotted Josh standing in the corner, smirking.
“Uh, Mick?” Zack sounded ridiculously cheerful and vastly amused. “I see you’re feeling…better.”
Josh chuckled. “I imagine he feels just fine right about now, since she’s in here.”
Slowly, not wanting to upset Mick, Del stood and cast a quick glare at both men. In her fascination with Mick, she’d all but forgotten them and how they’d bulldozed her, refusing her every request, evading her questions.
“I’d have been with you sooner, but they wouldn’t let me,” she said to Mick, feeling piqued all over again. “I didn’t know what was going on or why—”
“Only family could see him before he got to his room,” Zack said, some of his cheerfulness dwindling.
Del had heard the same lame explanation at least ten times, yet Zack had pretty much stayed with Mick, except for when he’d taken a turn guarding her so Josh could look in on him. They were friends, not family, or so they’d told her, so their excuses held no weight. They’d insisted she come to the hospital, insisted she wait around, and then they’d refused to let her do anything useful—like see Mick and thank Mick and…
She brushed her stringy bangs out of her face, still annoyed, still frustrated. “You could have taken my suggestion and told them I was his wife. Then they’d have let me in.”
Josh choked; Zack raised one eyebrow and looked at Mick. Mick grinned, then reached out for her hand with his good arm, which meant stretching across the bed. When she took his hand, he said, “I’m sorry you were worried.” And in a quieter tone, “Are you all right?”
Dismissing the other two men, she again sat on the bed. She wanted to kiss him some more, but his friends were standing there, not only ogling them, but bristling like overprotective bulldogs. Besides, after her run through the rain, and the burglary, she probably wasn’t all that appealing.
“I’m fine.”
Mick touched her bruised cheek with gentle fingertips. His eyes were nearly black with concern. “Damn, I’m sorry about that.”
His tone made her heart beat faster, made her skin flush and her insides warm. They’d only just met, but she felt as if she’d known him forever.
Catching his wrist, she turned his hand and kissed his palm. Again he looked surprised, and if she didn’t miss her guess, aroused. His eyes were hot, his cheekbones slashed with color. He stared at her mouth.
Was it possible he felt the same incredible chemistry?
Del had to clear her throat to say, “You saved me. I’m sorry I freaked. I thought…well, at first I thought you were with them and you intended to…”
“I know.” He continued to stare at her mouth, which made her belly quiver, her nerves jump. “I’m sorry I scared you.”
The irony didn’t escape her. Here he was, in bed, wounded, and he kept apologizing to her. She’d never met a man like him. “You kept me alive,” she stressed, which discounted any side effects, such as a small bruise, as unimportant. “I’m the one who’s sorry. Well, not sorry that I’m alive, but sorry that you got hurt in the process.”
“It’s just a flesh wound.”
Zack coughed and Josh snorted.
She looked at his two friends, then peered at Mick suspiciously. Was it worse than she thought? But the nurse had told her he’d be okay.
Her ire resurfaced and she said to Mick, “I wanted to come in and see you, but they wouldn’t let me. Waiting was awful. When we found out how long it would be, I planned to go home and shower and change, and try to make myself presentable, so when you came to I wouldn’t be such a sight, but he—” she directed a stiff finger at Josh “—wouldn’t be at all reasonable about any of it.”
“Don’t blame Josh,” Mick said, smiling just a bit. “I asked him to keep you around.”
“You did?”
“I was afraid you’d disappear and I wouldn’t get to see you again.”
His words were so sweet, she forgot about her sweat and ruined clothes and stringy hair. “I wouldn’t have done that, I swear! I would have come right back.”
Again she leaned down and kissed him, but this time he was ready for her and actually kissed her back. His tongue stroked past her lips for just a heartbeat, then retreated. Her breath caught and she sighed. Oh wow.
With a numb mind and tingling lips, she heard him rumble in a low voice, “I want to see you, Delilah.”
She lowered her voice to a mere whisper. “I want to see you, too. I just wish I’d had time to clean up. I’m all sweaty and I have mud on my feet and my clothes are limp and wrinkled. I smell like a wet dog.”
His hot gaze moved from her eyes to her mouth and back again, his expression devouring. “You smell like a woman.”
She almost slid right off the side of the bed. Much more of that and she’d be sweating again, that or she’d self-combust.
He was just so darn sexy! The dark beard shadow covering the lower part of his face made him look dangerous. After witnessing him in action that afternoon, she knew he was dangerous. His brows were thick, his lashes sinfully long, his high-bridged nose narrow and straight, his mouth delicious. And those dark eyes… This man had singled her out and risked his life to save her. It was beyond comprehension.
It was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to her.
Only a thin hospital gown and a sheet concealed his entire gorgeous, hard body from her. She looked him over, saw the width of his chest, the length of his legs. His feet tented the sheet, and as her attention slid back up his body, she noticed something else was beginning to tent, as well.
She returned her gaze to his, saw the burning intensity there, and froze. He wasn’t embarrassed and made no attempt to conceal his growing erection.
Using his left hand, Mick lifted her fingers and caressed them gently. His eyes were direct, unapologetic, and when she glanced at the other two men, it was to see them looking out the window, at the ceiling, anywhere but at the bed.
She was unimpressed with their show of discretion after everything they’d already put her through. It didn’t matter that they’d directed their attention elsewhere; they were still in the room, their presence noticeable. They’d more or less forced her to stay, at Mick’s request, but it was obvious they still didn’t want her alone with him.
If they’d really been polite, if they’d trusted her at all, they’d have left the room. But no, they weren’t ready to budge an inch. She supposed they didn’t know her well enough to trust her and, after all, he’d just been shot, but still…
Mick looked vital and strong and all-male, and his effect on her was beyond description. She’d long since decided men weren’t worth the effort, but oh, she hadn’t met this man yet.
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” She gripped his hand hard, trying to accustom herself to the unfamiliar feelings of tenderness and worry and explosive desire. It had been forever since she’d felt so much awareness for a man. Well, actually, she’d never felt it—not like this. Which was the main reason she seldom dated anymore. Men didn’t appreciate her emotional distance.