“’Kay,” she replied quietly. Silence reigned in the small car, save for the strangely soothing hum of the engine and light, distant street sounds. Sunlight warmed his face. Red-orange lava-lamp shapes flowed behind his closed eyes.
A soft murmur wafted to his ear, too indistinct to catch.
“Huh?” He forced his eyelids open and immediately drowned in the twin oceans of Kylie’s eyes. The headache had disappeared, only to be replaced with a new, incredibly insistent ache in a distinctly lower region.
“What’s your full name?” she repeated.
He pulled himself a little higher in the seat and looked around, surprised to realize they were parked in front of his house. Someone, maybe Hernandez, had retrieved the Yukon from Deuces and left it in his driveway. “I wasn’t asleep.”
Apparently debating the sleep issue didn’t interest her. “What day is it?”
“Saturday…well, shit, now it’s Sunday. Calm down, I’m fine,” he insisted at her alarmed expression. If she thought he was about to tip over from cranial swelling, he had zero chance of talking her into bed so he could prove exactly how fine he felt.
She waved her hand in front of his eyes. “How many fingers do you see?”
“Jesus.” He clasped her wrist and moved her hand back about a foot. “Four fingers, one thumb.”
“Trevor—”
“Okay, okay. You’re holding up three fingers.” Uncurling her thumb and pinky, he interlaced his fingers with hers and squeezed lightly. “Slim, delicate fingers,” he mused, “attached to one soft, graceful hand.” He let his thumb caress her palm. “Do I pass?”
“Hmm?” She stared at him for a long moment, seemingly hypnotized, while he drew intricate patterns on her palm with the edge of his thumb. “Um, yes. You pass.”
“Excellent.” Continuing the slow, stroking motion, he watched her eyes glaze over just a bit. “So tell me, Kylie, is this strictly taxi service or do I get some nursing, too?”
She blinked, frowned, and pinned him with a stern look—the one that always made his dick stand up and take notice. “I’m going to help you inside, tuck you into bed, and make sure you follow doctor’s orders and get some rest. I promised I’d stick around until three this afternoon. Then Ian will be here to take over watching you for signs of dizziness, nausea, or disorientation.”
Subduing a satisfied smile, he popped the door and stepped out. Three was hours away. When she hurried around the front of the car and braced her arm at his waist to help him walk to the front door, he held back a laugh. No way would a hundred and ten pounds of sweet, slender curves hold him upright if his conscious mind called a time-out. He’d go down like a sequoia and take her with him. But that wasn’t going to happen. He felt fine. Better than fine, actually. With her hand curved low on his torso, her hip brushing his, and the side of her breast pressed high against his rib cage, every step served as a minor seduction.
Once inside, she parked him on the sofa and scurried off to his kitchen, saying, “I’m going to get you a glass of water.” He toed off his shoes, and with something between a sigh and a groan, stretched his legs. The bliss lasted about a second.
From the kitchen she called, “Are you hungry? Maybe I should fix you something to eat before you go to bed?” Reappearing with the water, she handed it over and stood before him expectantly.
He ran his hand over his stubbly jaw and looked down at himself. Dirt and blood stained his shirt and hands. A quick sniff confirmed he reeked
of…innumerable things…the hospital antiseptic being the least offensive.
Kylie hadn’t fared much better, he realized as he took in her disheveled hair and pale, tired face. Her clothes also bore the signs of their rough night. His blood smeared the thighs of her faded jeans and crusted the hem of her pale-pink T-shirt. He didn’t need to be a detective to figure out why. While he’d been conked out, she’d cradled his head in her lap. A wellspring of tenderness for this exhausted, valiant angel rose in his chest. Maybe he could offer the caretaker a little care as well. “You know, what I’d really love right now is a shower.” For two.
She chewed her lower lip. “I don’t know, Trevor. I’m worried you’ll get dizzy and fall. How about a bath instead?”
An image of Kylie in the tub with him, all slick and wet and snug between his legs, popped into his head. “Deal.” He grinned. “If you’ll scrub my back.”
She took his arm when he lifted himself off the sofa and kept a steady hold as they walked. “I’m here to help you. But don’t get any ideas, Detective. The doctor said no strenuous activity.”
“I promise not to strain you.”
“The directive applies to you. I’m serious,” she added as she led him through his bedroom and into his master bath, where his roomy white soaking tub dominated one wall. “You need to take it easy.” With that, she turned and started running the bath.
“I plan to,” he assured her over the tumble of water. Slow and easy. Appreciating the way her jeans molded to her perfect ass, he started unbuttoning his ruined shirt. What could be easier than the two of them in his tub, her sliding over him, him sliding into her?
While she bent over the tub, fiddling with the water temperature, he shrugged out of his shirt and got started on his pants. He’d just stepped out of them and his shorts when she straightened, turned, and looked at him. She swallowed, and her eyes moved over him, slowly, from the tips of his toes to the top of his head with a couple noticeable stops in between.
“Kind of a switch, huh? You fully dressed and me naked?”
She swallowed again and nodded. He stepped closer. She retreated until the tub brought her up short. He wished he could see what was going on in that head of hers. She was tempted, that much he could tell. But was she going to give in to temptation?
She took his arm, looked up at him with big, bottomless eyes, and said, “The water’s warm. Let’s go ahead and get you in.”