because he wore only a pair of boxer briefs, ribbed cotton, charcoal-gray.
They fit him snugly just below his navel. He was bruised and cut over a good portion of his torso. He also had scars that had nothing to do with his fall. A long, nasty-looking one low on his flat belly that looked like a knife wound. A puckered one near his collarbone that looked like an old burn, and another on his arm. There was a long scar down one muscled calf, and another on his thigh. And then there was the tattoo he’d shown her-an intricate design winding around his left bicep.
And he called
She had bits and pieces of him now, and had put together a picture of how he’d grown up and become the man he was. There were still quite a few pieces of the puzzle missing, but he wouldn’t welcome her curiosity. She shouldn’t feel that curiosity at all, but did. He’d raised himself, a fact she couldn’t deny made him all the more fascinating.
How could his mother, any mother, turn her back on a child? What kind of mother did that, let her own son think she didn’t want him?
That it hurt her, hurt her for him, was another concern. She shouldn’t feel this way, this possessive, protective way. He certainly wouldn’t want it, nor, for that matter, would he want her compassion. He was far too proud for that.
And yet she couldn’t tear her eyes off his beautiful form. So she sank to the bed at his side and wondered what the hell she was going to do with him.
“You going to watch me sleep all night?”
She jumped back up, pressed nervous hands to her stomach. “You’re awake.”
“Want to see how awake?”
Since he was talking with his eyes closed, very carefully not moving a muscle, she smiled. “Do you know where you are?”
“In your bed. Without you.” His voice was low, husky. Unbearably sexy. “Want to check anything else? My temperature maybe? I’m hot, darlin’. Really hot.”
“You’re hurt.”
“Not that hurt.”
She eyed him. He still hadn’t moved a single muscle. And suddenly, the doctor inside her vanished, replaced by a mischievous woman who knew she was safe. “You don’t think so? You really think you could…?”
“I know it.”
“Yeah? Then prove it. Come get me, big guy.”
He pried a bleary eye open, closed it again when she sent him a cocky smile.
“Come on, come get it,” she dared, making him groan.
“Can’t you help a man out a little and come down here?”
“Nope.”
“Ah, now see, that’s just plain old mean.”
“Goodnight, Ty.”
“We already said that.”
“We’re going to say it several more times yet tonight. You can thank your concussion for that.”
He swore colorfully, making her smile again. A man who could put together those descriptive words was going to be okay.
The next time she checked on him, he was in such obvious discomfort and pain she ended up sleeping in a chair at his side to watch over him more closely. In the deep of the night, he shifted, then groaned, and she was there, reaching out to touch, to soothe. Though he didn’t say a word, she knew he was awake, and terribly uncomfortable. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Me, too. I’m sorry I fell through your ceiling. I’m
“Need another pain pill?”
“Yeah. I’ve decided I like those.”
“And the doctor? How about her?” She had no idea why she asked, and held her breath, wishing she could take it back.
But a weak smile touched his mouth. “Maybe I decided I like the doctor more than a little.”
“That’s only because I’m holding the goods.”
His eyes opened at that. “You have the goods all right.”
She blushed.
“And I’m not talking about your tight little hot bod either, Dr. Nicole Mann.”
She had no answer for that, but as he drifted off, none seemed to be required.
BY MORNING Nicole was the hoarse, groggy one. Since when had one single patient taken so much out of her?
Since she cared. Too much.
But she had an even more pressing problem at the moment. She wasn’t convinced Ty could handle the day by himself. He hadn’t yet managed to get out of the bed without her support, and though he did keep up a healthy stream of come-ons, she knew damn well he was all talk and no go.
So she did it. For the first time in her entire professional life, she picked up the phone and took the day off.
And wondered if she’d gone completely off the deep end.
8
AFTER SHE’D CALLED in to the hospital, Nicole stood in the middle of her living room, idle.
What was she going to do with herself with only one patient to take care of?
The entire day loomed large in front of her, when she’d never allowed herself a leisurely moment in her life. With a shrug, she pulled up a stack of medical journals and other related work reports she could read.
But for the first time since she could remember, they didn’t appeal. So she sat in front of the TV she’d turned on only a few times since she’d purchased it several years ago.
And in no time flat, discovered the utter, addictive joy of daytime television. With the remote in hand, she clicked back and forth between
Then the phone rang, annoying her. So did her caller.
“Hello.” The lazily cultured voice was Dr. Lincoln Watts. “Slacking off today?”
Nicole’s finger tightened on the phone. “I’m entitled to call in.”
“Did you stay up too late?” His voice lowered. “Or did your lover keep you in bed this morning?”
“I won’t be in today, Dr. Watts. That’s all that concerns you.
Not even two seconds later came the knock on her door. Damn it. She got up, and gaze still locked on the TV, opened the door.
“Morning.” Suzanne held a covered tray that smelled so delicious Nicole promptly forgot about the TV.
“Not for you.” Suzanne slapped Nicole’s hand when she went to lift the cover. “For Ty. Tell him I hope he’s feeling better.”
“You brought Ty food and not me?”
“Yes, and don’t cheat him by eating any of it. He needs his strength to heal.” She whistled slowly at the hole in the ceiling of the living room. “That poor, poor baby.”
“He’s not a baby.” Nope, as Nicole had now seen just about every inch of his long, hard, perfectly formed body, she could say that for certain. “And food doesn’t heal.” She lifted her chin. “My skills as a doctor are going to do that.”
