“Effective method, if unoriginal. But I was thinking of tying you to something else. My bed would work nicely.”
“Do you often have to resort to threats to get women into your bed?”
“Usually, I have more trouble getting them out of it.”
“Arrogant!”
As if he hadn’t heard me at all, he dropped suddenly into a crouch before me. I stared down at the top of his head, baffled, as he began to push the fabric of my pants up my left leg.
“What are you doing?” I squeaked as his large hands found my battered kneecap. His strong fingers were unbelievably gentle as they probed the torn skin. “Graham—”
“Shh,” he muttered, reaching into his pocket. A small tube of antiseptic ointment materialized, along with two bandages. “I’m busy.”
I blinked. Hard.
Ripping the paper packaging open with his teeth, he made quick work of bandaging my knees, one after another. It took all my concentration to remain completely still as his fingertip smoothed a dollop of the ointment onto my cuts, as his hands affixed the adhesive edges, pressing them firmly against my skin.
Memories flashed through my mind unbidden, a kaleidoscope of watercolor images. A little girl on a beach with a foot full of urchin spines. A gorgeous lifeguard with a first aid kit, telling her everything would be all right.
I got you, Firecracker.
“There,” he said when he was finished, unrolling my pant legs again. “Good as new.”
I tried to speak, tried to form athank you, but the words kept getting lodged in my throat. Graham didn’t seem to mind, though. He was standing again, even closer than before, staring down at me.
“Time for bed,” he announced.
“Bed?”
“Bed. Sleep. You. Now.”
“I’m not tired.”
“I don’t care.”
My eyes narrowed. “Why do you have to immediately follow up every nice thing you do with something so annoying?”
“You haven’t seen how nice I can be, yet, babe. Not by a long shot.”
The blatant suggestion in his tone frazzled my brainwaves. “That’s— you’re— I’m not—”
“Gwendolyn,” he cut off my inarticulate splutters. “I’m going to brush my teeth.”
“Congrats.”
Ignoring my flippant remark, he took a step closer. I automatically moved backward, exhaling sharply when the countertop bit into my spine.Damn it all to hell.I had nowhere to run.
“That should take me about two minutes,” he continued, planting his hands on the butcher block, bracketing me inside his arms. His bare chest was so close, I could almost feel the heat of it. “Three, tops.”
“I guess gum health isn’t a top priority, huh?”
“And when I get back,” he said, as if I hadn’t spoken. “You’d better be in my bed.”
I jerked my chin up, indignant. Unfortunately, this brought my face within a hairsbreadth of his. My heart, already pounding like a drum, tripped over itself inside my chest. Even though I knew no good could come of it, I couldn’t stop myself from asking, “And if I’m not?”
He grinned again — and, let me tell you, up close that grin was nearly enough to knock me flat on my ass — as if I’d said exactly what he wanted to hear. As if I’d thrown down some sort of challenge. One he couldn’t wait to partake in.
Without another word, he pushed off the counter and walked away. I remained immobilized, unable to breathe or blink, let alone make my legs function. Before I heard the bathroom door click shut, he called out one last time.