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eyes with her good hand. “I think it was the breakup with Lawrence and the Christmas rush and the after -Christmas rush and work and…us…and everything.” She laid her cheek against his shoulder again as she huffed and snuffled.
    “Us? Really?” That brightened his day a little bit, right there.
    “Well, I mean, I like—I’m interested in you, but…we seem to have the worst luck. I’ve picked a fight with you every time we’ve shared a conversation. I’m not an argumentative, brawling type of person. It sets me on edge to be around people who are like that.
    But…”
    “You’re attracted to me?” He stroked her back, careful to avoid the dressing between her shoulder blades.
    Sitting up, she nodded and reached for the box of tissue on the nightstand. He handed it to her, and she began blotting her eyes.
    “Okay,” he said and then was quiet for a few seconds. “Listen, let’s get you changed into something more comfortable. I’ll help you lie down, and then we can talk about it.”
    He kept her talking while he helped her undress, to distract them both. The diversion didn’t work so well as more and more of her fragrant, satiny flesh was revealed. He was used to undressing a woman for only one purpose, and lusting after her, when she was still in pain, felt wrong.
    She groaned when she lifted her arms slightly to slip her shirt off.
    Studiously ignoring the lush cleavage cupped in her sexy bra, he slipped her boots and socks off. He had her stand as his fingers slid into the waistband of her jeans to unbutton and unzip the fly. He slid the jeans down her hips and groaned quietly when he realized she was
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    wearing a pink lace thong. One of his fingers had accidentally hung in the waistband at her hip and drew it down with the jeans. His overeager, obnoxious cock roared to life, and he hesitated, in agony.
    “On or off?” he asked simply, not able to be more specific, without diving in, injured or not.
    “I need to…um, off, please. I need to use the restroom. It will pull my stitches if I bend right now.”
    Off.
    Fuck.
    The thong was coming off then. He slid it down her long, silky legs, along with her blue jeans, as she leaned against him and slipped her feet from them, one at a time. She was inches from his lips and completely off-limits. He kept his eyes on her feet and her dainty, red toenails.
    Shit, shit, shit.
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Chapter Four
    He should have thought this out better. She was standing in front of him in only her bra, which he was willing to bet was also pink lace to match her thong.
    They were both frozen as if they were having the same “oh shit”
    realization. “My…gown is hanging on the hook behind my bathroom door.”
    He stood with his eyes hooded, doing his best to not look at what he couldn’t have, at least not yet. His cock totally, vehemently disagreed. Greedy bastard.
    He retrieved a silky little wisp of nothing that was the gown she asked for, along with a fleece robe that hung on the same hook beneath it. Coverage was a good thing right now.
    He wanted to be a gentleman and allow her some privacy, but he could not get his eyes to cooperate as he returned from the bathroom.
    He was not much of a gentleman in those seconds as he took her in.
    Her sumptuous form was backlit by the lamp, so he could make out every inch of her silhouette, from the graceful curve of her spine to the delectable swell of her ass and then further to her long, shapely thighs.
    Juliana turned partially on the bed as she heard him re-enter the room, and he could clearly see the generous swell of her breast, her peaked nipple visible through the sheer, pink lace of her bra. His eyes drank it all in, down the soft curve of her tummy to the top of her thighs, where a hint of the cinnamon-hued curls that covered her mons were barely visible. She turned away, and he saw the dressing
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    on her shoulder blade and her cast as she reached back to shield her derriere from his view.
    With renewed purpose,