Part 25 (1/2)

Mistletoe purred. Her wide, flat face and green irises made her look wise. Her eyes closed in pleasure as Holly pointed the blow dryer at the cat's coat.

Mistletoe loved the heat of the machine. She could lie there for hours being warmed and petted. Her purr rumbled as low as the motor. Holly felt the vibrations through her fingers. She turned the dryer off after a few minutes, Mistletoe b.u.mped her fingers with her damp nose as if asking for more.

”Wait until you have your babies,” Holly said.

Mistletoe stretched, then rested her head on her front paws, as if she intended to nap on the counter.

”Fine by me,” Holly said. She glanced in the mirror. Her nose was still red, but some of the puffiness had gone down around her eyes. Her hair wasn't completely dry, but that always took forever. She pulled it back into a loose ponytail and walked out of the bathroom. First she would check on Jordan , then she would finish dinner.

As she approached the study, she heard a m.u.f.fled curse. When she walked in the room, Jordan was pacing s.h.i.+rtless. He held his right arm close to his chest. Lines of pain stretched from his nose to his mouth.

”What's wrong?” she asked as she hurried to his side.

”I painted the baseboards. At least, I started to. Then this muscle seized up in my back.” He tried to straighten his arm, then grimaced.

Holly walked behind him. She touched him by his shoulder blade and felt the large knot of muscles. ”I used to ma.s.sage my mother,” she said. ”Do you want me to try and do you?”

He turned so he was facing her. ”I'm in too much pain to be done,” he said, then grimaced.

She stared at him blankly. ”You don't want me to rub your back?”

”Yeah, that would be great.”

”Then why did you say-”

He cut her off with a shake of his head. ”Joke. Bad timing. Forget it.” He glanced around the room. ”Where do you want me?”

”Lie down on the bed.” As soon as she said the words, she started to get embarra.s.sed. Thankfully he did as she asked without looking at her first.

She went into the bathroom by his room and found a bottle of body lotion. As she returned, she tried not to notice how he looked wearing jeans and nothing else, stretched out on clean white sheets. Her insides felt funny, as if they were being jolted by a slight electric shock. She wore socks but not shoes, and she couldn't stop her toes from curling.

He was hurt, she reminded herself. He was in pain and he needed help. This was medicinal. She wanted to heal, not indulge in some bizarre fantasy.

She approached the bed slowly. His eyes were closed, and a dark lock of hair fell across his forehead. A twitch by his mouth was the only indication of his pain.

She sat on the edge of the bed and uncapped the lotion. After pouring some in her palm, she s.h.i.+fted so she was facing his back and touched her hands to his skin.

He was hotter than she'd expected. While she worked at the knotted muscles, part of her mind stood back and noted differences. Her mother's skin had been thin, her back more narrow, her muscles easily manipulated. Jordan was pure male in his prime. Loan ropes of strength challenged her trained fingers. She pressed her palms against the tightness, trying to force the lactic acid out, and with it, the pain.

She leaned toward him, using her body weight to increase the pressure. Her conscience split in two. One side was the nurse, noting the slight relaxing of tension in his body. That portion of her allowed her to straddle his narrow hips so she was able to put more pressure into her ma.s.sage. The other part of her, the shy, inexperienced woman, was shrieking at what was going on. She couldn't believe she was doing this, on his bed, in his room, with nothing but a few layers of clothing between them.

As she worked, moving slowly, starting her strokes low at the small of his back and sliding up, she tried to ignore the curve of his rear pressing intimately against her. She tried to ignore the dryness of her throat and the nearly uncontrollable urge to giggle. She wanted to stand up and scream, Look at me. I'm touching a man's bare back. But she doubted Jordan would understand.

She rubbed the knot and found it was much smaller, Jordan groaned. ”If I pay you a million dollars, will you promise to never stop?” he asked.

”Do you have a million dollars?”

”Not with me.”

”Too bad. I would have promised.”