“
“A little accident at work,” Dani assured him. “Only five stitches.”
“Stitches?” Going white as a sheet, Alan grabbed out for support, but nothing was there.
Then he flashed the whites of his eyes.
“He’s going down,” Dani told Shayne, who swore and lunged for him, unceremoniously hauling him back to the front door.
“Shayne, wait.”
“Buh-bye,” Shayne said to Alan.
To Alan’s credit, he dug in his heels and tried to see past Shayne. “Dani-”
But Shayne shut the door on him.
“Ohmigod.” Dani pointed to the door. “Open it up. Now.”
Unapologetic, he moved toward her instead. “He’s so going on the list.”
“He doesn’t belong on the list.”
“Oh, he belongs on the list.”
“Shayne, seriously. Did you see the way he nearly fainted at the sight of the blood on my head?”
Shayne’s gaze lifted from the pad where he was furiously scribbling Alan’s name. “So?”
“So you know if he’s queasy at the sight of blood, then he’s not hauling around a dead body to torture me with.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I thought you were half delirious with pain.”
“I am.” She softened her voice, trying to distract him. “Delirious. Helpless. What are you going to do about it?”
“Don’t even try to distract me with that tone.”
“Which tone?”
“The sexy one that makes it so I can’t think.” Shayne stared down at the list while she stared at him.
He thought she had a sexy tone? One that made it so he couldn’t think? Wow. She didn’t think anyone had ever said such a thing to her before, and it cut right through the painkillers and activated her good spots.
Clueless, he was still studying his list. “I think we’ll start with your siblings.”
“Start with?”
“In the morning, we’re going to pay them a little visit.”
“They’re in Tahoe.”
“So?”
“So, it’s like a nine-hour drive.”
“But only a forty-five minute flight.” He smiled grimly. “Luckily you know a pilot.”
Her fear of flying reared its ugly head. “Is he the same guy who just threw my friend out on his ass, because I’m not sure I want to fly with that guy.”
“How about the guy who has four broken fingers from you squeezing him while you got stitches? The guy who’s good in an emergency, on the ground or in the air. You want to fly with that guy?”
“No. I don’t want to fly at all.”
“It’s the best way.”
“Says you.”
He shook his head. “Dani. More people die in car accidents-hell, more people die getting struck by lightning- than in plane accidents.”
“Has anyone at Sky High ever been in an accident?”
He hesitated, and she gasped. “You?”
“Noah. He crashed in Mexico last summer, but-”
“Ohmigod. What happened?”
He closed his eyes, then opened them on her. “He was hit by lightning, but-”
“
“Tin buckets? Are you kidding me?”
“No.”
“It was a one-in-a-million thing, Dani.”
She sighed, and carefully, very, very carefully, laid her head against the couch cushion. Just as carefully closed her eyes. The next thing she knew, her world was spinning as Shayne again lifted her in his arms.
“Whoa. Stop the ride, I want to get off.”
But he just carried her down the hall to her bedroom.
“You don’t have to do the he-man thing,” she protested, but clutched at him, mostly because she loved having his arms around her.
“Maybe I like to do the he-man thing.” He set her down on the mattress, gently, carefully, and then moved to the foot of the bed to pull off her shoes.
“What are you doing?”
“Putting you to bed.” He came to her side and saw the cursed buttons again. “Why do your clothes have so many buttons?”
“I like buttons.” She yawned, hugely. “Shayne?”
“Yeah?”
“My eyes are closing.”
“Let them.”
So she did. “Mmmm,” she sighed at the feel of his warm fingers brushing her skin as he spent the time to work the buttons now. Beneath she still wore that yellow bra, which he left on to work the zipper of her pants. When he tugged them down, he paused.
“You’ve already seen the panties,” she murmured, eyes closed in exhaustion tinged with bliss.
“I know.” He ran a finger over the strap on her hip. His breathing had changed, and now hers did as well.
And suddenly, she wasn’t so tired. She opened her eyes to find him watching her in the dim light of the lamp by her bed. When he saw her eyes open, he stroked a strand of hair from her jaw. “Lift up,” he said, and pulled the blanket from beneath her. But before he could cover her up, she scooted over in open invitation.
“You need your rest. You need to relax.”
“Relaxing is out of the question.”
“The doctor said-”
“I know. I just…” She lifted a shoulder. “Can’t. There’s too much racing around in my brain. I can’t slow it down.”
He made a soft sound of regret and kicked off his shoes. Then shrugged out of his shirt.
Okay, she liked where this was going.
But instead of stripping out of his pants, he only unbuttoned and unzipped, and then carefully lay down next to her.
“You didn’t finish,” she said in great disappointment.
He let out a low laugh. “You are not up for anything fun and naughty, so don’t even go there.” He pulled her in as if she was a China doll in danger of breaking, running his hands up and down her body in a gesture she was certain he meant to be soothing but instead began to warm her from the inside out.
“I am so up for fun and naughty.” But she yawned, making him laugh again.
“Just let your eyes close.” His fingers danced up her side.
Her nipples hardened in hope.
But he didn’t touch them.
“Shayne.”
“Shh.” He played with the straps of her bra as if he couldn’t help himself.
“Still not relaxed. In case you were wondering.”
“It’d help if you stopped talking.”
“You know I’m not good at that.”
“Try. You’ve got to try to relax.”
