Before she realized his intent, he lifted her up and placed her on the kitchen counter. “First, we see to your hands and neck.”
Grace smiled. Let him tend to her injuries first. She’d get a chance to question him more about who he was and where he’d come from. The pull between them wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
“Turn your hands palms up.”
* * *
Ben desperately needed the distraction of caring for her injuries before he forgot them in favor of her enticing-yet-innocent proposition.
She did as he asked. He washed his hands at the sink, then returned to her side and saturated a cotton ball. With care, he wiped down her dirt-streaked hands, cleaning the scrapes. Except for the first time when she sucked in a pain-filled breath, she didn’t utter a word of complaint and let him work.
“You’re good at this. Get much practice?” she asked.
He recognized her attempt to distract herself from what must sting like the devil, but he also recognized a feminine ploy to extract information.
Still, she was so guileless in her attempt, he couldn’t help but indulge her. “No younger siblings to take care of, if that’s what you’re asking.” He reached for a fresh piece of cotton to pat down her hand and then opened the antibiotic cream.
Using his thumbs, he gently rubbed the center of her palms, massaging the ointment into her pale but soft skin—skin marred only by the bruises inflicted when she’d hit the sidewalk. The urge to lift her hand to his lips and ease her pain
was strong.
The urge to comfort warred with the more primal desire to wrap her in his arms and protect her from harm. And it had nothing to do with the case.
Damn, but Grace Montgomery was trouble.
“How about children?” she asked.
At the blunt, out-of-the-blue question, his finger pressed against her hand too hard and she let out a gasp. “Sorry. Jeez, Grace, if you want to know something, just come out and ask.” He glanced up at her sheepish expression.
An embarrassed but endearing smile worked its way onto her lips. “You caught me, I guess.”
He laughed. “Let’s just say your investigating skills need some brushing up.”
She shrugged. “Good thing you’re just the man to teach me.” She paused. “Unless there’s a wife, child, or girlfriend I don’t know about.” Curiosity and hope mingled in her warm brown eyes.
“No wife and child, no girlfriend, and no exes with kids, either. But I meant brushing up on more discreet ways of getting information.” He peeled open the bandaid and patched her hands as best he could. “I’ll make a drugstore run later and pick up something better to cover those hands, at least until they’re feeling better.”
She glanced down at his handiwork. “You don’t need to make a special trip. I can live with Cinderella until tomorrow.”
He ignored her protest. If a drugstore trip was the only way he could escape he’d take it in a heartbeat. He ignored the devilish voice in his head reminding him of what other items could be found at a drugstore should the need arise, and he refocused on her injuries. “Okay, now, for your neck.”
She winced at the thought of him repeating the procedure on the burn left by the heavy camera strap rubbing against her skin.
“I think we can forget the antiseptic and just go with the cream,” he said.
She exhaled a sigh of relief. “Sounds good.”
“Let’s see.”
As she brushed long strands of hair off the side of her neck, she made room for him to take a look—by spreading her legs and letting him step inside. Surrounded by her feminine heat and intoxicating scent, Ben realized he was in trouble.
Fingertips covered with ointment, he touched her neck as gently as possible. A tremor shook her body, and her thighs clamped shut, enclosing him in her warmth. An echoing shudder overtook him.
He had to clear his throat in order to speak, and even then, his voice came out a hoarse whisper. “Can we skip the bandages, too?”
She turned her head, and her face was a tempting millimeter from his, her lips within kissing distance. His mind demanded he walk away. His body refused to listen to reason. He opened his mouth to speak, to prevent the inevitable, when she took advantage of his indecision and touched her lips to his.
Hot. Sweet. Demanding. Giving. The swirl of emotions flowed inside him as urgently as her tongue swept inside his mouth. Her hands gripped his forearms, heedless of the scrapes on her palms, and her nails dug into his skin.