Read Online One Last Dance by Angela Stephens - Free Book Online

drink this. It
will help you relax.”
    “I should probably—”
    “Drink the wine.”
    She blinked in surprise at his
commanding tone and sipped the wine. He set a bottle of aspirin beside her on
the end table, near her water bottle. Next to that he set a jar of Tiger Balm.
Sophie recognized the distinctive red and gold container. There was one in
nearly every room of her apartment.
    Henry surprised her again,
getting to his knees in front of her. The last item he held was a damp
washcloth. He lifted her chin with his left hand, wiping her cheeks with the
soft, cool cloth. Sophie sighed at the gentle gesture, and Henry smiled.
    “There. Now, let’s have a look at
this knee.”
    His words sent hot shards of
panic into her heart and she clutched her knee with her left hand. “That’s not
necessary. Once I have the wine and the aspirin I’ll be fine. Thank you.”
    “Sophie,” he said, his deep voice
brooking no argument. “Let me see your knee.”
    Sophie took a deep breath and
moved her hand. She gulped wine, breathing heavily as he inspected the
troublesome joint carefully.
    Henry smiled. “Thank you.”
    “You’re welcome,” she breathed,
answering automatically as she stared into the lambent ebony of his eyes. Sophie
felt his hand lifting the hem of her pants leg, but didn’t care. Or rather, she
cared, but she didn’t mind . His knuckles lightly brushed her calf as he
raised the loose material up. He pushed it gently over her knee, fingers
grazing her inner thigh as he tucked it out of the way. But his eyes never left
hers.
    He smoothed the fabric, stroking
the curve of her thigh, before lowering his gaze. Sophie tensed, sucking in a
sharp breath and squeezing her own eyes closed, anticipating the shuttering of
that heated gaze, the blank plasticity of his face as he struggled to contain
his disgust. Just like Christian had before he left.
    She jumped, whimpering, as she
felt him trace his fingertip along the side of her kneecap. The scar there
wasn’t nearly as terrible as it had been, thick and twisted, before the
cosmetic surgery. But it was still white and raised. And the flesh of her
thigh, just above the knee, was pale and pitted where the infection had eaten
away at her. Her leg looked as if a large beast had taken a bite of it. Which
was, in fact, how it had felt at the time.
    Sophie knew the knotted muscles
would be standing out beneath her skin, writhing like serpents. But Henry’s
touch was warm and gentle. He cupped the back of her knee, fingers digging
cautiously into the locked tendon there. His thumbs gently massaged the
twitching muscles above her kneecap, easing the strain. Sophie groaned.
    “That’s better, isn’t it?” Henry
murmured. He kept rubbing, firmly but not too hard, until the cramp let up.
Sophie let out a long sigh of relief, the tension easing from her shoulders as
the pain lessened. Henry’s hands kept working, warm and dry against her skin.
    “Henry—”
    “Drink your wine, Sophie.”
    She did as he said, draining the
last of the wine. He smiled at her. The look tugged in her belly, sexy and
dark.
    “Good. Now, take some of those
aspirin.” He was still rubbing. The warmth that had begun at his firm touch was
spreading up her thigh, into her belly. She set the wine glass down and twisted
off the cap of the aspirin bottle, shaking two of the small white pills into
her palm. She tossed them back, sipping from her water bottle to wash them
down.
    Sophie moved to draw her leg out
of his grasp. “For a businessman, you’re pretty good at first aid.”
    His hands remained firm on her
knee, not letting her up. “I have many talents. Don’t move. I still have to put
the salve on.”
    “I’ll do that when I get home. So
it doesn’t get on my clothes.” The second the words were out of her mouth, she
saw the flare of heat in his eyes and knew he was picturing her naked. She was
too, only adding him to the scene. They both inhaled sharply, staring at each
other for