“Did you sleep all right?”
Clearly last night’s encounter hadn’t affected him. “Fine,” she lied, ignoring the hollow feeling threatening to take hold of her insides. “You?”
“As well as anyone with a furry bed warmer can sleep. Nigel has apparently appointed me the substitute Duchenko.”
“I noticed you fed him. And made coffee. Thank you.”
“Since I was awake first, it seemed only logical. Plus, Nigel would never have let me leave the house, and I wanted to get a run in before it got too humid.”
“I didn’t know you were a runner.”
“Grandpa Theodore’s idea. He thought it would help keep my lungs strong. The habit just sort of stuck.” As he talked, he crossed the kitchen to the side where she stood. Patience gripped the counter a little tighter. Even sweaty, his skin smelled appealing. Instead of stale and dirty, it was the fresh, clean scent of exertion.
“I called the hospital before I left. Ana had a good night,” he said, reaching into the cupboard for a mug.
He offered her a mug, as well, but Patience shook her head. Sharing coffee together felt too domestic and familiar.
“Oh, good. I was thinking of taking her some of her favorite tea and cookies when I visited her today. Since you were concerned about her eating and all... what?”
He was giving her one of those looks, where he seemed to be trying to read her mind. “That’s very thoughtful of you.”
“You sound surprised.”
“Actually...” His expression turned inward. “I’m beginning not to be.”
“Thank you. I guess.” Maybe he was finally realizing she wasn’t some kind of criminal mastermind out to take his aunt’s money or whatever it was he suspected her of being. Maybe this meant he would back off and her insides could unwind.
Or maybe not, she corrected, taking in his muscular arms.
“Don’t get too comfortable. I’m still keeping an eye on you.” Damn, if the smile accompanying the remark didn’t make her insides grow squirrelly. He finished pouring his coffee and headed toward the door. “I’m planning to stop by the hospital before work this morning. If you’d like, I can give you a ride.”
“Thanks,” she replied as Stuart left to get a shower. Sitting in close quarters with him while they wove through traffic was not her idea of fun. She’d bet he had a tiny Italian sports car so their knees could bump on every turn, too.
“Like I said,” she remarked to Nigel, who had returned and was weaving in and out of her legs, “he’s making it awfully difficult.”
* * *
Stuart took the stairs two at a time. So much for the restorative powers of a good run. Five miles and his thoughts were still racing.
Not just his thoughts. All he could say was thank goodness Patience wasn’t trying to look sexy or he’d have a heart attack.
It was time he accepted the fact that he’d gone from finding the woman attractive to being attracted to her. His fate was sealed the second his arm slipped around her waist. She fit so perfectly, her hips aligning with his as though they were meant to be connected...
Giving a groan, he kicked his bedroom door shut. It was all that damn tendril’s fault. If the strand had stayed tucked in her band where it belonged, he wouldn’t have been compelled to brush the hair from her face, and if he hadn’t brushed her hair, he never would have considered kissing her.
And oh, did he consider. He owed her a thank-you for bolting upstairs. Kept him from crossing an improper line with his aunt’s employee.
Raised a few more questions, too. Mainly, what made her flee in the first place? Stuart swore that for a few seconds before Patience took flight, he saw real desire in her eyes. Did she back off because she realized the mistake they were about to make or because of something more? The lady sure had her secrets.
Maybe he could find out what they were. That is, if he could keep his attraction—and his hands—to himself.
* * *
Surprisingly—or perhaps
Clearly last night’s encounter hadn’t affected him. “Fine,” she lied, ignoring the hollow feeling threatening to take hold of her insides. “You?”
“As well as anyone with a furry bed warmer can sleep. Nigel has apparently appointed me the substitute Duchenko.”
“I noticed you fed him. And made coffee. Thank you.”
“Since I was awake first, it seemed only logical. Plus, Nigel would never have let me leave the house, and I wanted to get a run in before it got too humid.”
“I didn’t know you were a runner.”
“Grandpa Theodore’s idea. He thought it would help keep my lungs strong. The habit just sort of stuck.” As he talked, he crossed the kitchen to the side where she stood. Patience gripped the counter a little tighter. Even sweaty, his skin smelled appealing. Instead of stale and dirty, it was the fresh, clean scent of exertion.
“I called the hospital before I left. Ana had a good night,” he said, reaching into the cupboard for a mug.
He offered her a mug, as well, but Patience shook her head. Sharing coffee together felt too domestic and familiar.
“Oh, good. I was thinking of taking her some of her favorite tea and cookies when I visited her today. Since you were concerned about her eating and all... what?”
He was giving her one of those looks, where he seemed to be trying to read her mind. “That’s very thoughtful of you.”
“You sound surprised.”
“Actually...” His expression turned inward. “I’m beginning not to be.”
“Thank you. I guess.” Maybe he was finally realizing she wasn’t some kind of criminal mastermind out to take his aunt’s money or whatever it was he suspected her of being. Maybe this meant he would back off and her insides could unwind.
Or maybe not, she corrected, taking in his muscular arms.
“Don’t get too comfortable. I’m still keeping an eye on you.” Damn, if the smile accompanying the remark didn’t make her insides grow squirrelly. He finished pouring his coffee and headed toward the door. “I’m planning to stop by the hospital before work this morning. If you’d like, I can give you a ride.”
“Thanks,” she replied as Stuart left to get a shower. Sitting in close quarters with him while they wove through traffic was not her idea of fun. She’d bet he had a tiny Italian sports car so their knees could bump on every turn, too.
“Like I said,” she remarked to Nigel, who had returned and was weaving in and out of her legs, “he’s making it awfully difficult.”
* * *
Stuart took the stairs two at a time. So much for the restorative powers of a good run. Five miles and his thoughts were still racing.
Not just his thoughts. All he could say was thank goodness Patience wasn’t trying to look sexy or he’d have a heart attack.
It was time he accepted the fact that he’d gone from finding the woman attractive to being attracted to her. His fate was sealed the second his arm slipped around her waist. She fit so perfectly, her hips aligning with his as though they were meant to be connected...
Giving a groan, he kicked his bedroom door shut. It was all that damn tendril’s fault. If the strand had stayed tucked in her band where it belonged, he wouldn’t have been compelled to brush the hair from her face, and if he hadn’t brushed her hair, he never would have considered kissing her.
And oh, did he consider. He owed her a thank-you for bolting upstairs. Kept him from crossing an improper line with his aunt’s employee.
Raised a few more questions, too. Mainly, what made her flee in the first place? Stuart swore that for a few seconds before Patience took flight, he saw real desire in her eyes. Did she back off because she realized the mistake they were about to make or because of something more? The lady sure had her secrets.
Maybe he could find out what they were. That is, if he could keep his attraction—and his hands—to himself.
* * *
Surprisingly—or perhaps
Similar Books
