And he had to play it safe, too, keep it light, and keep her off guard. That way she wouldn’t get too close or discover he was further along in rehab than she and Rina believed. “I’m sure I can be persuaded. And I’m certain you’re up to the task.”
“So all of a sudden you’re willing to consider therapy?”
He shook his head, seeking to buy time. “I’m willing to let you try and persuade me.”
“Why the turnaround?”
“No turnaround. I haven’t agreed to anything yet.”
She raised an eyebrow, obviously unsure what to make of him. “But you will.”
“That certain of yourself and your abilities?”
“Absolutely. The only question I have is, why the change?”
She’d rea
d him well, Jake thought. Or rather, she read them well. Did she really have to ask why he’d end up working with her despite his token resistance? “Do you want me to tell you the truth? Or what you want to hear?”
Jake had the distinct impression that the answer was “both.” She wanted to know the only reason he’d even consider rehabilitation was to get close to her. And she wanted him to lie so she didn’t have to face it.
“I’ll consider therapy because of you.”
She exhaled hard.
“Just like you’re not going to walk out on this job because of me.” He grinned.
“You’re a cocky one,” she murmured with a smile.
“And this is a good thing?”
“Sure is. It means you can take a tough workout.” She met his gaze head-on.
She hadn’t backed off at his admission. Even after that kiss, she wasn’t intimidated by the attraction between them. Score one for her, Jake thought. He admired her grit—something he rarely found in a woman.
It also helped his cause. She’d need that strength if they were going to bump into one another in the middle of the night, stealing a drink from the fridge. He would need that strength. “I can take anything you dish out, sweetheart. Just tell me what you have in mind.”
“You might be sorry you asked. Physical therapy involves strengthening with rubber bands and working the muscle with massage therapy.” The word massage hovered in the air between them and the blood pulsed inside him, making him ache as if her hands were already on his body.
“But water therapy works well, too,” she continued. “The resistance in the water is a help. Add a whirlpool, and the pulsating water jets work wonders to loosen the muscle,” she said, her voice resonating with a deep, husky quality.
“Pulsating water jets, huh?”
Her face flushed red. “Different therapists take different approaches, but there are many options.”
He wondered if she was imagining them naked in the whirlpool, water flowing freely around them. He wondered if she had any idea what fun two people could have in that whirlpool she’d mentioned, water jets and all. “It all sounds interesting, especially the pulsating water jets.” He wiggled his eyebrows provocatively.
“I’ll just bet.” Watching him warily, she folded her arms over her chest and studied him. “I save the water therapy for my most cooperative patients,” she said in a provocative, seductive voice.
Just as she probably had intended, his body began a steady rhythm, one that only those vibrating water jets could match. He sucked in a breath and forced himself to think like the cop he still was. First and foremost, he needed information about her schedule, if only so he could better plan his. When would she be in the penthouse? When would he be on his own? When could he slip out to work on the Ramirez case without her reporting back to his sister?
“So, when do you start—convincing me, I mean? Because with the right incentive, I can be very cooperative.” And damn if he didn’t want to comply with any and all of her water-related directives. “I’m a quick learner—and an even better instructor.”
He watched her struggle to maintain her composure. He was glad. If he kept her off balance, he’d be more in control. He needed that control, since he could too easily dismiss Frank and his family, and Ramirez in favor of Brianne. It disturbed him to realize that despite her ability to screw up all he’d worked for, he wanted her.
She cleared her throat. “Relax, water boy. We start as soon as I get a referral, diagnosis and prescription from your doctor. Probably sometime next week.”
He glanced at Brianne. She’d leaned against the couch, still professional but more relaxed, so certain she’d bought herself time before having to deal with him and his reluctance to begin therapy. Before having to convince him the only way he’d allow—a seductive, playful coaxing. Because as long as Brianne would live and work here, Jake intended to control the situation.