Alice stared at him coldly, tottering on impractical high heels. Her hazel eyes were large and heavily rimmed with glittery purple liner, startling in the narrow framework of her face. Her lips were lined and coated with hot pink. Even under the best of circumstances, Sam would have found her annoying. But having just been dragged out of bed with Lucy, with his body still screaming to go back and finish the job, Sam found it impossible to muster even the bare minimum of civility.
“We don’t encourage people to drop by without calling first,” he said.
“I’m here to see my sister.”
“She’s fine.”
“I’d like to see for myself.”
“She’s resting.” Sam stood with one hand braced on the doorjamb, blocking her way.
“I’m not leaving until you let her know that I’m here,” Alice said.
“Lucy has a concussion.” With no small amount of self-derision, he added, “She can’t handle any kind of stress.”
Her mouth compressed into a hyphen. “You think I would hurt her?”
“You’ve already hurt her,” Sam said evenly. “It shouldn’t be too hard to figure out that shacking up with Lucy’s former boyfriend means you lose your place on the short list.”
“It’s not your place to judge me or my personal choices.”
True. But considering the fact that Alice’s affair with Kevin had led to a chain reaction that had ended in Lucy recuperating at Sam’s house, he figured he had a say in the matter.
“As long as Lucy’s under my roof,” he said, “it’s my job to look out for her. And your personal choices haven’t struck me as being all that great for Lucy.”
“I’m not leaving until I get to talk to her.” Alice raised her voice and directed it into the entrance hall behind him. “Lucy? Can you hear me?
“I don’t care if you stand on my porch caterwauling the rest of the day—” Sam broke off as he heard Lucy calling from upstairs. Giving Alice a baleful glance, Sam said, “I’m going to check on her. Stay there.”
“Can I wait inside?” she dared to ask.
“No.” He shut the door in her face.
* * *
By the time Sam returned to the bedroom, Lucy had dressed in a pair of khaki shorts and a T-shirt. She had heard enough of the commotion downstairs to know that Alice had dropped by without warning, and that Sam hadn’t taken it well.
Still giddy with nerves, Lucy couldn’t decide how to feel about what had just happened between them. Mostly she was dumbfounded by her reaction to him, the blood-hot pleasure that had obliterated every thought.
As Sam approached, she felt rampant color race over her skin. His gaze slid across her, and a frown notched between his brows. “How did you get those clothes?” he asked. “I left them on the dresser.”
“I didn’t put any weight on my leg,” Lucy said. “It was just a step and a hop away from the bed, and then I just—”
“Damn it, Lucy. If that foot touches the floor again, I’m going to…” He paused, considering a variety of threats.
“Send me to bed without dinner?” Lucy suggested gravely. “Take away my cell phone?”
“How about a good old-fashioned smack on the ass?”
But she had seen the flash of concern in his eyes, and she knew what was behind his annoyance. She dared to give him a small smile. “Holly told me you don’t believe in spanking.”
As Sam stared at her, the tension eased from his shoulders, and the hard lines of his mouth softened. “I might make an exception for you.”
Her smile lingered. “You’re flirting with me again.”
“No, I’m—” The front door rang impatiently. “Jesus,” Sam muttered.
“I probably should see her,” Lucy said apologetically. “Would you take me downstairs?”
“Why do you want to put yourself through that?”
“I can’t avoid Alice forever. And Mom’s coming out the day after tomorrow. It would make her happy if her daughters were at least back on speaking terms.”
“It’s too soon.”
“I think so too,” Lucy admitted. “But she’s here, and I may as well get it over with.”
Sam hesitated before bending to slide his arms beneath her.
The contact jolted through Lucy as if an electric current had opened between them. She tried to conceal her reaction, concentrating on keeping her breathing steady. But as she held on to his shoulders, she saw a flush rise from the neck of his shirt, and she knew that she wasn’t the only one affected.
“Thank you,” she said, as he turned sideways to take her through the doorway. “I know you’d rather just kick her out.”
“I may kick her out anyway.” Sam headed to the stairs. “I’m keeping an eye on you. At the first sign of trouble, she’s gone.”
Lucy frowned. “I don’t want you standing over the two of us while we talk.”
“I won’t stand over you. But I’ll be nearby in case you need backup.”
“I won’t need backup.”
“Lucy, do you know what a concussion is?”
“Yes.”
Sam continued as if he hadn’t heard her. “It’s when you hit your head so hard that your brain slams into your skull, killing off large numbers of neurons. It can cause sleep problems, depression, and memory loss, and those side effects are aggravated if you strain yourself in any way.” He paused and added irritably, “And that includes sex.”
“Did the doctor say that?”
“He didn’t have to.”
“I don’t think sex would aggravate my concussion,” Lucy said. “Unless we did it upside down or on a trampoline.”
Although she’d meant to be funny, Sam didn’t seem to be in the mood for humor.
“We’re not doing it in any position,” he said vehemently.
As Sam settled Lucy onto the sofa with her leg elevated, Renfield got up from his mat in the corner. He shambled over to them, his face split with a pugnacious canine grin. Lucy reached down to pet him, while Sam went to get Alice. Unceremoniously he ushered her sister into the living room.
Oddly, although Lucy was the one with the bandages and leg splint, Alice struck her as being far more vulnerable. The heavy makeup, the expression hemmed with strain, the movements constricted by her four-inch heels, all added to an appearance of bruised insecurity.
“Hi,” Alice said.
“Hi.” Lucy forced a shallow smile to her lips. “Make yourself comfortable.”
As Lucy watched Alice lower herself carefully to the edge of a nearby chair, it seemed their history was all around them. Her relationship with Alice had been the most frustrating one of her life, filled with competition, jealousy, guilt, resentment. They had grown up having to battle for the limited resource of their parents’ attention. Although Lucy had always hoped the conflict between them would ease as they got older, it was now worse than ever.
Noticing that Alice was staring at the dog, Lucy said, “This is Renfield.”
The dog grunted and looked up at Lucy with a string of drool hanging from his
