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the flap that hid the interior from view.
    Violet lay facedown on the bed, her head burrowed in the pillow, one arm tucked awkwardly between the mattress and the end table next to it.
    “What the heck are you doing?”
    She moaned and lifted her head slightly. “I’m stuck.”
    * * *
    “S TUCK ,” G AVIN REPEATED STUPIDLY .
    “I had a box of pens and pencils and I knocked them behind the nightstand. I was trying to reach it without moving all my suitcases, storage boxes and garment bags.”
    Of which, Gavin noted, there were many. All crammed together in the available space between the mattress and the high wooden sides of the wagon.
    He tracked the silky dark mane over her face and shoulders. “You’re really stuck?”
    She groaned again and pounded her forehead lightly against the mattress beneath her. “No. I’m just lying here for the fun of it.”
    He grinned. A sensually indisposed Violet was a sight to behold. Her temper only added to the allure. “Hang on.” He sprang into action. “I’ll move some of these suitcases.”
    A feat that was easier said than done, he quickly discovered. Some boxes were wedged in there pretty tight. Plus, the stack was two and three high on all sides. “What did you pack in these, anyway?” He succeeded in freeing a storage box from the stack, only to have the snapped lid fly off in the process and a whole array of sexy undies come spilling out. About half of which landed on her shoulders and head.
    Another string of muffled, surprisingly unladylike profanities filled the silence. She turned her face to his. “Did you do that on purpose?”
    “Ah, no.” The last thing he needed to see was what kind of undergarments she wore. Now he’d be imagining how she looked in all that sexy satin and lace. “Sorry.” He rescued the rest of her undies and stuffed them all back in the box, snapping the lid on.
    “Are these all clothes?”
    “Yes. It’s everything I might need for the next three months and then some.”
    “Sounds like a woman.” His sisters were notorious clothes-hounds, too.
    “And spoken like a man. Are you hurrying?”
    Gavin lifted another box of undies and a half-open suitcase of what appeared to be silk pajamas and nightgowns. Who knew she dressed so sexily when she wasn’t at the hospital? Except, in the past five years, she had almost always been at the hospital.
    “Gavin?”
    “Almost there.”
    She moaned.
    He shifted the suitcase wedged against the side of the queen-size mattress and the wagon.
    She tried to pull free. Groaned again, in what seemed to be real pain this time. “Still stuck...”
    No kidding. Her arm remained clamped tight between the nightstand and the bed.
    Deftly, Gavin slid one arm between her and the mattress, simultaneously pushing down on the bed while supporting the weight of her chest. Then, still supporting her weight and keeping her trapped arm in place, he used his free hand to shove the mattress several inches away from the nightstand, toward the other side of the wagon.
    That gave her just enough wiggle room.
    Her breasts pearling tautly against his forearm, she pulled her trapped limb free and rolled onto her back. Rubbing from shoulder to elbow to wrist, she tested the flexibility of her fingers with a beleaguered sigh. “Wow, that hurt!”
    “Are you sure you’re okay?”
    She sat up, still rubbing the affected limb. Beneath her shirt, he couldn’t help but note her breasts were still taut.
    Oblivious to his wicked thoughts, she scoffed playfully. “You mean aside from my wounded pride?”
    Glad she hadn’t lost her sense of humor, he grinned and sank down on the bed. He felt the drumbeat of arousal as he faced her. “I kind of like you as a damsel in distress.”
    She crossed her arms over her breasts, her delicate hands resting on opposite shoulders, at the nape of her neck. “You are so funny.”
    Suddenly sensing she needed more comforting than her self-imposed hug could give, he shifted closer.