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.Don’t think about it.I’m going to pack it with ice, see if we can keep the swelling down.”She shivered.“Do you have to?”“Have to, no, should, yes.” Carefully he pulled her jacket from her shoulders and before she could protest he brought the blanket from the hall closet and wrapped it around her.Then he went to the living room and came back with a glass of mulberry wine.“Medicinal purposes,” he said, worry lines creasing his face.She lifted her arm, took a sip of wine, then reached for his hand.“I’m okay, really.It’s probably just a sprain and I’ll be fine.”He squeezed her hand reassuringly and smiled down at her.“Sure you will.I’ll get the ice.”Carefully he lifted her feet off the chair so he could sit on it.He took her foot in one hand, the ice, encased in a plastic bag, in the other.She wiggled her toes and they felt puffy and swollen.Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back against the solid pine backrest.For several minutes he held the plastic bag against her foot, cushioning her soles against his warm chest.He looked out the kitchen window.“I ought to put the horses in.Can you hold this yourself?”Her eyes flew open.“Of course.” She reached for the ice pack.“I’m not completely helpless.”“If eight hundred pounds of horse had stepped on me, I’d be helpless and you’d be holding my feet and icing my ankle, wouldn’t you?”She nodded, her eyes tearing from the pain and the frustration of being hurt.Now of all times, now when she needed to be strong and healthy.“Miranda,” he said, standing at the back door.“You’re going to be all right.”She gave him a watery smile and he closed the door behind him.She told herself he was right, she would be fine, but when? When he came back he wrapped her foot and ankle in a gauze bandage he’d found in the medicine chest in the bathroom.He gave her two aspirin and then dinner in the kitchen, her leg still propped on the chair.She was overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness, confused by his taking charge and rattled by his physical presence.The closer he got the more helpless she felt.When she finished the last baked bean on her plate, her foot was numb and so was her brain.He reached for her plate and put it into the sink.“How are you doing?”“Feeling no pain,” she said through stiff lips.“Good.Where’s the nearest doctor?”“On Main Street, why?”“Because I’m taking you in to see him in the morning.”“What can he do?”“Take an X ray, bandage it properly.” He put water on the stove to boil for coffee.“I’ll be late for work, they’re picky about that,” she protested.“We’ll get an early start.”“Now wait a minute.You’re going home tomorrow.I can get myself there.”“No, you can’t.”“I don’t like depending on somebody else.”“Neither do I, but all I’m doing is driving you to town.If it were me.”“I know.I’d be driving you to the doctor and making your coffee.”“And carrying me upstairs to bed?” he challenged her with a gleam in his eye.“Oh, no.” She was sinking deeper and deeper into a black hole of depression.If she couldn’t even get up the stairs by herself.“You wouldn’t?”“Of course I would if I could, but I bet you wouldn’t like being babied any more than I do.”He crossed his arms over his chest and grinned at her.“I’d let you carry me up to bed anytime you want.I’d even let you kiss me good-night if you insisted.”She bit her lip to keep from laughing or crying, she wasn’t sure which.“All right.”“All right, you’ll kiss me good-night?”“All right, I’ll go to the doctor.”The look in his eyes made her heart skip a beat.Was it so wrong to want to kiss him good-night? She knew how his lips would feel on hers, warm and firm.He crossed the room, lifted her and carried her up the stairs.With her arms around his neck, her cheek was pressed against his.“Max,” she gasped, “I’m too much for you.”“You’re right,” he said, backing onto her feather bed and cradling her tightly to him.“Way too much.” He rolled on his back, cushioning her and sinking deeper onto the soft billows of the bed, one arm around her shoulders, the other on her round bottom.She turned to roll out of his arms and landed on top of him, her breasts pressed against his chest, her bandaged foot in the air, feeling ridiculous, but so relaxed and so mellow she didn’t care.“Come here,” he muttered.“Where?” she asked.But she knew.Their lips met somewhere between heaven and earth and she forgot about her foot, forgot about the syrup, forgot about everything but Max and the fire he kindled deep within her.Outside the wind came up and the temperature fell to below freezing, but inside she felt the heat from his body, heard his heart pound, and felt her heart match his, beat for beat.He cradled her face in his hands, his hunger for her growing stronger with every kiss, until he knew he’d never get enough, not tonight, not ever.He rolled onto his side, taking her with him, and she moaned, bringing him to his senses at last.“I hurt you.I’m sorry.Got to get you to bed.”Dazed, she looked around.“I am in bed.”He sat up and looked down at her, at her hair tangled and fanned out around her face, her eyes unfocused, her lips as soft and dewy as dawn.But it wasn’t dawn, it was night and she ought to be in her bed instead of on top of it.His heart contracted.What kind of a jerk would take advantage of her immobility and her weakness? She’d kissed him, yes.And he’d felt her hunger, her desire leap to match his own.But how much of that was the painkiller, the wine and the TLC? Most of it, he suspected ruefully.He stood at the side of the bed.“Where’s your nightgown?”She pointed to the chair in the corner and he tossed the soft pink garment to her.If he didn’t get out of her room soon he’d be undressing her, sliding her shirt over her head, pulling those flannel pants off her hips and settling the nightgown over her head, the soft cotton caressing her breasts as it drifted over her body and covered her long legs.He paused in the doorway.“Do you need anything else?” he asked in a voice that sounded more like gravel than anything else.She shook her head and he closed the door behind him.Chapter FiveThe throbbing in her foot woke her up, as well as the smell of coffee and the sizzle of bacon from the kitchen.Her mouth watered, her stomach contracted.It was a good thing he was leaving today.Baked beans, pancakes and now bacon.She could get used to this.Usually she raced out of the house with no time for breakfast, only time to empty the buckets.She slapped her palm against her forehead.She’d almost forgotten the buckets and the sap.She slid out of bed and winced as the blood went to her foot and made it pound.After putting on her quilted robe, she sat down on the top of the landing and took the stairs one step at a time on her bottom.He heard her coming and met her as she hit the last step [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]