Texas! Lucky

"Did you think I was faking it?" Lucky was smiling, but his lips were pale and taut. "And I rarely go around in a shirt that's been sliced to ribbons."

"I … I didn't think…" she foundered. "Shouldn't you go to the hospital?"

"It'll be okay once it closes and stays closed."

Bending over him, she raised the hem of his ripped shirt. The extent of the cut made her gasp. It wasn't deep, but it arced from beneath his left breast to the waistband of his jeans on his right side. In places his tawny body hair was clotted with dried blood. The thin red line was seeping.

"This might get infected if it's not seen to." The resolution on her face barely had time to register with him before she said, "Better take off your shirt."

He hesitated, because in order to remove his shirt, he'd have to set aside her keys. She sensed the reason for his hesitation and said with asperity, "I wouldn't desert a man who is broken and bleeding."

Lucky dropped her keys on the nightstand, undid his shirt buttons, and eased up far enough to pull the fabric off his wide shoulders. She assisted him, negligently tossing the tattered garment to the floor and focusing only on his wound. "That wretched little man," she said, shuddering.

"Jack Ed? Yeah, he's a real scumbag. I'm relieved to know your flirtation with him wasn't anything serious."

"I wasn't flirting, and you know it," she said crossly. Leaving the bed, she went into the adjoining bathroom. A moment later she was back with a washcloth soaked in warm water. Nudging his hip with hers, she sat down on the bed beside him and applied the cloth to the cut. He sucked in a sharp breath.

"Does it hurt?" she asked in a gentle tone.

"Dumb question."

"I'm sorry, but it really should be cleaned. Lord only knows where that knife has been."

"I wouldn't even want to hazard a guess." Before, he had been too angry at her to concede what a looker she was. Now he did. She wore her dark auburn hair shoulder length and loose, and probably tried to control its natural tendency to wave. Green eyes were now surveying his wound sympathetically, but he knew firsthand those eyes could be as frigid as a brass doorknob in January.

Her lean face had well-defined cheekbones, but a mouth with a soft, full lower lip. As a connoisseur, with vast experience of lips, he recognized them right off as extremely kissable. Her plush lower lip was a dead giveaway that this was a woman with a sensual nature.

That was probably something else she tried to control. She certainly tried repressing it with tailored clothing that didn't quite conceal a noteworthy figure. Not voluptuous. Not model-skinny either. Somewhere in between. Slender but curved. Spectacular legs. He couldn't wait to see her out of her suit jacket, with nothing covering her breasts except the silk blouse she was wearing beneath the jacket.

First things first, however. He was assured of success, but this woman was going to be an exciting challenge, something rare that didn't come along every day. Hell, he'd never had anybody exactly like her. Rules of the game might have to be adjusted as he went along.

"What's your name?"

She raised deep forest-green eyes to his. "D-D-Dovey."

"'D-D-Dovey'?"

"That's right," she snapped defensively. "What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing. I just hadn't noticed you stuttering before. Or has the sight of my bare chest made you develop a speech impediment?" He suddenly wanted her face nuzzling in his chest hair. Badly.

"Hardly, Mr.—?"

"Lucky."

"Mr. Lucky?"

"No, I'm Lucky."

"Why is that?"

"I mean my name is Lucky. Lucky Tyler."

"Oh. Well, I assure you the sight of your bare chest leaves me cold, Mr. Tyler." He didn't believe her, and the smile that tilted up one corner of his mouth said so.

"Call me Lucky."

She reached for the bottle of whiskey on the nightstand and raised it in salute. "Well, Lucky, your luck just ran out."