Susan Mallery - Holly And Mistletoe

But she didn’t dare question her good fortune. Even though she’d never had much opportunity to spend time with men, she’d always dreamed about what it would be like to know one. Jordan was everything she’d imagined the perfect man would be. He was kind, funny, charming and when he looked at her a certain way, she could feel her bones melting. It would be easy to have a crush on him…or worse.

But she wouldn’t. First of all, she’d heard a little about the Haynes brothers from people in town. They had a reputation for being heartbreakers. She might as well try to learn ice skating at a U.S. Olympic team workout. She was completely out of her league. Not only was she a virgin, but she hadn’t kissed a single male since she was fifteen. Talk about being out of the loop.

The second reason she wouldn’t dare fall for Jordan Haynes was that as much as she might daydream about a man, even marriage, she knew it wasn’t in the cards for her. Not because no one would love her. She liked to think that one or two people might think she was special. The real reason was that love required trust, and she’d been let down too many times. She couldn’t imagine ever trusting anyone again.

She pulled the sheet higher up his bare chest, then left the room and hurried down the hallway toward the bathroom. She’d spent the past three days longing for a shower and she was going to enjoy every minute of this one.

A hideous howling broke through Jordan’s dream and jerked him into consciousness. He sat up in bed, then groaned as pain ripped through his muscles. He shouldn’t have gotten up earlier, as Louise had told him gleefully.

He shook his head and tried to figure out what was wrong. His brain was fuzzy, and he couldn’t focus on anything. There’d been a sound. A—

The howling came again. Someone or some thing was being tortured. He threw back the sheet and tried to rise to his feet. The floor shifted. Or maybe it was him. He gripped the nightstand with one hand and the table by his bed with the other, then pushed up. As he locked his muscles, he realized he’d made one fatal error of judgment. He’d forgotten the hospital table had wheels.

It shot out from under him and went flying across the room. Jordan lost his balance and tumbled toward the floor. He braced one arm to save himself, but it gave way and he hit the hardwood on his already bruised shoulder.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway.

“Jordan?”

It was Holly. She would be relieved to find out he wasn’t naked under his sheet but instead wore shorts over his briefs. Then his eyes closed, and he couldn’t think about anything but the pain.

“Jordan, what happened?”

“I heard something. Howling. Tried to get up.”

“You fell. Are you hurt?”

He hurt like a son of a bitch. She raised his head to her lap, then stroked his face. He opened his eyes.

For a moment he stared at her, then he blinked, certain he must have hit his head when he fell. She was wearing a white robe and nothing underneath. He knew because the robe had parted, exposing the curve of one breast and the first hint of the rosy skin around her nipple.

He sucked in a breath. Her hair was wet and tumbling around her shoulders. Her eyes darkened with concern, and the fingers on his face were gentle and comforting.

Maybe he was dead. If this was heaven, who was he to complain?

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