Page 19

He heard the water turn off and left the empty glass in the sink. He’d just sat on the sofa and turned the T.V. on when she walked into the living room. Her chestnut hair was pinned back in that horrid bun once more. She was covered head to foot in a man’s robe. Jealousy struck him and he had to fight it. The robe looked well-worn. Old-boyfriend or current? Wide, hazel eyes stared at him.

“Abby, I never asked if there was someone you wanted to call.”

She frowned slightly. “Call?”

“Like a boyfriend.” The words tasted sour in his mouth.

She blinked a few times. “I don’t have a boyfriend, if I did I...”

“Wouldn’t have accepted a ride home with me?” he guessed.

“Well, yes. Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about. If you were my girlfriend, I’d expect to be the first person you called when you got into trouble. Of course, if you were my girlfriend, you wouldn’t have been at that bar in the first place.”

Her eyes widened at that. Before she could say anything, though, he nodded at the robe. He could tell she was fading fast. She was exhausted and needed to get to bed. For two hours of sleep. He was seriously not happy about that.

“Lose the robe, baby.”

Her mouth dropped open and she just stared. He stood and moved towards her, reaching slowly for the robe, not wanting to frighten her. He knew he intimidated her and he never wanted her to be afraid of him.

“Abby, I need to check that your injuries aren’t worse than you’re letting on. Then I need to clean those hands. Any other injuries I should know about?”

Her hands closed around his. “It’s really not necessary—”

“I believe we’ve already had this talk, haven’t we?” He made sure his voice was firm. He didn’t intend to argue over anything that had to do with her health. “I don’t want to go through this again. I’m going to make certain you are all right. End of story.”

She frowned at him. “You’re used to getting your way, aren’t you?”

He grinned. “Most of the time, yep. Occasionally Clint overrules me on things, but not very often. Now, lose the robe and tell me where your first aid kit is.” He’d untied her robe by now and she hadn’t tried to push him away again so he took that as a good sign.

“Umm...well...” She nibbled at her thumbnail. He’d noted before that her fingernails were bitten to the quick.

He gently pulled her thumb free from her mouth. “Baby, spit it out.”

“That’s not really my thing,” she muttered.

He grinned. “I kind of figured that out already. But we don’t have time for you to think about what to say, so just say it.”

“I don’t really have a first aid kit.”

“You got antibiotic and some cotton swabs?”

“I think so.”

“Then problem solved.” And tomorrow, he’d get her a proper first aid kit.

So much for keeping your distance.

“Right. Problem solved. Easy as that.” She was gazing at him as though he was a problem she wished she could solve as easily.

He tugged at the sleeve of her robe, pulling it slowly off, gentling his touch as she winced. Was she hurt worse than she’d been letting on? It itched at him to find out. To take care of her. To tuck her into bed and make certain she rested.

And the best way he could do that was to climb into bed beside her.

Okay, he couldn’t think of that right now. Once the robe was off, he studied the pale blue pajamas she wore, with pictures of cows on them. They were faded and obviously well-loved. He placed her robe over the back of the sofa then took hold of her wrist and gently steered her into the bathroom. “Where is the antibiotic?”

“Umm, in the cupboard under the sink.”