Completely Smitten by Kristine Grayson

shows. That would explain everything: his looks, the house, the need for privacy.
    He glanced over his shoulder. “It was a joke.”
    “Oh,” she said. “It’s just that you’re—”
    She stopped before she embarrassed herself by saying he was gorgeous enough to be an actor.
    “I’m … ?”
    She shrugged. “Familiar somehow.”
    “You were sort of conscious when I brought you up here.”
    “That must be it then,” she said. But it wasn’t. It didn’t explain that sense of duality she’d felt from the moment he entered the bathroom, the way he seemed to say one thing— convincingly—when she thought he was going to say another.
    They were staring at each other again. She felt like an awkward schoolgirl.
    “I’m sorry,” she said. “You’ve done all this for me and I never even asked your name.”
    He smiled, his gaze not leaving her face. “My name is Darius.”
    And then the smile faded, just a bit, as if he had surprised himself.
    “That’s unusual,” she said. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard the name before.”
    “It’s Greek.” And with that, his smile fled completely, as if his words had chased it off his face.
    She nodded. “I’m pleased to meet you, Darius.”
    “Dar,” he said.
    She raised an eyebrow. “What?”
    “Dar. Call me Dar. It’s less of a mouthful.”
    “Dar.” She tested it. The shortened version suited him better. The fact that he had an unusual name fit him. He seemed like an unusual man. “I’m Ariel.”
    “You don’t seem ethereal to me,” he said.
    Had he misheard her? “What?”
    “Your name,” he said. “It’s Hebrew for ethereal.”
    “Actually,” she said, “my aunt had a dictionary with name meanings in the back. That said my name was Hebrew for divine feline.”
    “Divine feline.” He grinned. “You like that better?”
    “I’ve always hated it. I don’t even like cats.”
    His grin faded. “You don’t?”
    She shook her head. “Why? Is there one here?”
    “No,” he said, “but there should be.”
    She frowned. “What do you mean?”
    “Never mind.” He laid out the bandages and the pieces of wood. “I think you should trust me on this one. The name means ethereal, not divine feline.”
    It took all her strength not to pull her leg away from him. “And you’re sure of this because … ?”
    “Because names are a hobby of mine.”
    “So what does Darius mean?” she asked.
    “It means incredibly stupid and arrogant.”
    She laughed. “Surely no parent would name anyone that knowing the meaning.”
    “Who says they knew?” He looked up. “I have a hunch sitting on the side of the tub while we do this is a bad idea.”
    She looked behind her. The medical kit sat in the middle of the porcelain like a portent of things to come. She didn’t want to fall for a second time that day, third if she counted the way she crumpled out of the log bed.
    With a sigh, she raised herself on her hands and was going to lever herself off the tub edge when he said, “No.”
    She froze.
    “Let me.” He came over to her and braced her leg as he eased her down. Even that hurt. She couldn’t imagine how it would have felt to do it on her own.
    Still, his arms were as strong as she had remembered, his embrace as wonderful as it had been in her dreams. Her face was only inches from his, and for a moment, she thought he was going to kiss her.
    Then he set her on the tiled floor and moved his face away as if she had burned him.
    “All right,” he said with false heartiness. “This should only take a moment.”
    He set up the wood around her ankle. A piece brushed her skin, sending rivers of pain up her leg. She gasped, and he gave her another guilty look.
    “This would probably be easier if you closed your eyes,” he said.
    She shook her head. “I’ve been injured before. I can watch.”
    “Yeah, but you might anticipate my movements and flinch. I’m sure real doctors are used to that, but I’m not. So let’s just see how quickly