The bed was empty. Could she be so lucky? She heard colorful words coming from the bathroom. Guess not. She set down the tray on the nightstand and followed the cursing. Aidan was sprawled out on the floor, one of his crutches completely out of his reach by the linen closet. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to take care of myself,” he growled like a wounded bear.
“You’ve been in bed with a fever for two days. I won’t even bring up the trap. You have no business getting out of bed. You want a relapse?”
“I need a shower.” He looked at her with that same look Fox developed when he decided he had to do something right this minute and was going to be stubborn about it.
“And you thought you could accomplish that by yourself?” He was just like any other man. Stupid.
“You want to give me a hand?” he asked. “Help me undress, soap me up, dry me off?” He raised that brow of his, suggestive and sardonic at the same time. How did he do that with one look?
“No, I don’t want to help you.” She stuck her hands on her hips. “I’ve been giving you sponge baths for two days. Believe me, you are clean. You don’t need a shower.”
“So…” He cocked his head to the side. “I didn’t dream that?”
The sponge bath or the kiss followed by the almost sex? She felt heat rise in her cheeks. Just what did he remember? “Dream what?”
“You. Us. On the bed. Together. My fingers inside—”
“Dreaming!” she interrupted. “You definitely were dreaming that .”
He gave her a look that said he wasn’t buying it, but he let the subject drop. “You going to help me up, or leave me here on the floor?”
She would have loved to leave him on the floor, but she was never one for tormenting someone. Unless it resulted in pleasure for them both. Like that time she had—
What was she doing? Remembering their sexual escapades wouldn’t do either of them any good. She walked over to the crutch that had skidded across the floor and picked it up. “How did you end up in this position anyway?”
“Reached to turn on the shower. Lost my balance and came down on my bad leg. It gave out, and I went down.”
She pursed her lips. “Do you think it’s broken then?”
“I don’t know. but it hurts a hell of a lot.”
“It’s supposed to stop snowing sometime this afternoon. They’ll get the plows out here hopefully tomorrow or the next day.” Until then, it looked as though she was stuck playing nursemaid.
Why didn’t the reality of that upset her as much as it had earlier?
Aidan sighed with relief once he was back in the bed. The trip to the bathroom and then the literal trip in the bathroom had taken what strength he’d had. The fever had zapped him of everything it seemed. He was shaky, tired, and his head pounded like an Inuit drummer calling for the sun. He watched through narrowed lids as Raven tended to him. Her actions were fast and choppy like she was nervous.
He hadn’t dreamt that he’d had his hands on her, his lips. That she had moaned his name, kissed him, grabbed his hips. She still desired him. He smiled inwardly. He hadn’t felt good about himself for a long time. Life had sucked for a long time.
Whether Raven wanted to admit it or not, she still cared. Her body’s response didn’t lie like the words coming out of her mouth. The same mouth that had kissed him, bit him.
She propped a pillow under his leg and covered him with a light blanket. He was still only wearing boxers. She kept stealing glances at his bare chest so he folded the blanket down, letting it rest over his hips as he leaned against the headboard. She set the tray across his lap and then moved back.
“Thank you,” he said. “I can’t remember a time when I’ve been so hungry.” He looked over Raven’s body until she blushed. Satisfaction rose inside him, warming him. He glanced at the tray of food wishing he could take a taste of her instead. A bowl of hearty stew with a side of crusty bread,
“Trying to take care of myself,” he growled like a wounded bear.
“You’ve been in bed with a fever for two days. I won’t even bring up the trap. You have no business getting out of bed. You want a relapse?”
“I need a shower.” He looked at her with that same look Fox developed when he decided he had to do something right this minute and was going to be stubborn about it.
“And you thought you could accomplish that by yourself?” He was just like any other man. Stupid.
“You want to give me a hand?” he asked. “Help me undress, soap me up, dry me off?” He raised that brow of his, suggestive and sardonic at the same time. How did he do that with one look?
“No, I don’t want to help you.” She stuck her hands on her hips. “I’ve been giving you sponge baths for two days. Believe me, you are clean. You don’t need a shower.”
“So…” He cocked his head to the side. “I didn’t dream that?”
The sponge bath or the kiss followed by the almost sex? She felt heat rise in her cheeks. Just what did he remember? “Dream what?”
“You. Us. On the bed. Together. My fingers inside—”
“Dreaming!” she interrupted. “You definitely were dreaming that .”
He gave her a look that said he wasn’t buying it, but he let the subject drop. “You going to help me up, or leave me here on the floor?”
She would have loved to leave him on the floor, but she was never one for tormenting someone. Unless it resulted in pleasure for them both. Like that time she had—
What was she doing? Remembering their sexual escapades wouldn’t do either of them any good. She walked over to the crutch that had skidded across the floor and picked it up. “How did you end up in this position anyway?”
“Reached to turn on the shower. Lost my balance and came down on my bad leg. It gave out, and I went down.”
She pursed her lips. “Do you think it’s broken then?”
“I don’t know. but it hurts a hell of a lot.”
“It’s supposed to stop snowing sometime this afternoon. They’ll get the plows out here hopefully tomorrow or the next day.” Until then, it looked as though she was stuck playing nursemaid.
Why didn’t the reality of that upset her as much as it had earlier?
Aidan sighed with relief once he was back in the bed. The trip to the bathroom and then the literal trip in the bathroom had taken what strength he’d had. The fever had zapped him of everything it seemed. He was shaky, tired, and his head pounded like an Inuit drummer calling for the sun. He watched through narrowed lids as Raven tended to him. Her actions were fast and choppy like she was nervous.
He hadn’t dreamt that he’d had his hands on her, his lips. That she had moaned his name, kissed him, grabbed his hips. She still desired him. He smiled inwardly. He hadn’t felt good about himself for a long time. Life had sucked for a long time.
Whether Raven wanted to admit it or not, she still cared. Her body’s response didn’t lie like the words coming out of her mouth. The same mouth that had kissed him, bit him.
She propped a pillow under his leg and covered him with a light blanket. He was still only wearing boxers. She kept stealing glances at his bare chest so he folded the blanket down, letting it rest over his hips as he leaned against the headboard. She set the tray across his lap and then moved back.
“Thank you,” he said. “I can’t remember a time when I’ve been so hungry.” He looked over Raven’s body until she blushed. Satisfaction rose inside him, warming him. He glanced at the tray of food wishing he could take a taste of her instead. A bowl of hearty stew with a side of crusty bread,
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