Claiming His Brother's Baby by Helen Lacey Page B

house. Although she doubted Mouse would let an intruder in without alerting her. Speaking of which...
    “Where’s my dog?”
    “In the backyard,” he explained. “Fed and waiting to be let back in, I’m sure.”
    Cassie nodded. “You let me sleep.”
    “You seemed to need it.”
    She shrugged and tried to ignore the pain in her head. She really was feeling worse with every passing moment. “I guess I did.” She looked toward her baby. “He’ll need changing before he’s put down for the night.”
    “Done,” Tanner said and moved toward her. “I’m somewhat of a dab hand with a diaper these days. I had practice with Grady’s kids when they were babies.”
    Her brows came up. “And you’re making dinner?”
    “To order,” he replied and grinned. “If you don’t like omelet.”
    Cassie thought about her wavering stomach. “Actually, I put a casserole on this afternoon,” she said and pointed to the slow cooker on the counter. “But I might just have some soup a little later.”
    “Soup it is. But first I’ll put this little guy to bed.”
    Normally she would have protested. But the headache and wobble in her knees was getting steadily worse and she didn’t quite trust her balance. “That would be great. Thanks.”
    Once he left the room Cassie sank into a chair and rested her arms on the table. When Tanner returned she was still in that position.
    “Everything okay?”
    She nodded and sighed heavily. “Just tired I guess. Thank you for watching Oliver.”
    “My pleasure,” he said and came around the table. “He’s a good baby. You know, you don’t look so great. Are you sure you’re all right?”
    “I think I’ll—”
    She stopped as his hand reached out and he rested it against her forehead. “You’re burning up.”
    Cassie’s skin tingled from his touch and she pulled away fractionally. “I’m fine.”
    “You’re not fine. You have a fever.”
    She shook her head and pushed the chair back. “I’ll be okay. I only need some rest,” she insisted and stood. But her legs wavered and she gripped the edge of the table for support.
    “Like hell. You’re sick.”
    And without another word Tanner scooped her up into his arms.
    By the time she had the strength to protest he was down the hallway and had shouldered her bedroom door open and placed her gently on the edge of her bed. “Now get some rest.”
    “You didn’t have to pick me up,” she protested feebly, pushing back her embarrassment and trying not to think about how it felt to be held against his broad chest. He was still recovering from an injury and the last thing he needed was to damage his leg again. “I could have walked.”
    “And fallen over most likely,” he said. “You need to take care of yourself, Cassie.”
    “I will. I
do
. I have a headache, that’s all. It’ll pass once I get some rest.”
    “You have a fever,” he insisted as he strode toward the bed and pulled the comforter back. “I’ll bring you some water. Where do you keep your aspirin?”
    She rolled her eyes. “In the pantry, top shelf, but I really think I—”
    “Be back in a minute.”
    She watched him leave the room and then rounded out her shoulders. The man certainly was stubborn. She flipped off her shoes and shimmied farther onto the mattress.
    When Tanner returned she pasted on a grateful smile. He passed her a glass of water and a couple of painkillers. “Thank you. I appreciate your concern,” she said and looked at him over the rim of the glass. “Even if you are being bossy.”
    “If it gets you into bed, then I’ll do what I have to.”
    Cassie was sure he didn’t mean to sound so suggestive, but once the words were out the air in the room seemed thicker, hotter, as if a seductive wind had blown through the opened doorway. She looked at him, felt the heat rising between them and desperately willed it to go away. But no. It stayed. And grew. And made her mounting awareness of him bloom into a heady, full-blown