Victoria Pade - Cowboy's Caress

Or maybe she just would have preferred him trying to convince her to stay.

One way or the other, this whole day since she’d met him had been the strangest of her life.

And she was more than ready to put an end to it.

She’d finished her sandwich, so she pushed the plate away. “I should get going,” she announced, even though it seemed as if they’d just started to actually talk to each other and she was cutting that short.

But Bax merely nodded, putting no effort into stopping her from leaving the house, either.

“Are you sure you’ll be all right out in the cottage?” he asked.

“I’ll be fine,” she answered. “Better that than those stairs.”

“So, we’ll just leave the back door open and you can come and go as you need to use the kitchen—is that how we’re doing this?”

“That’ll work fine. I shouldn’t need anything else—especially upstairs—so you won’t have to worry about my being in the hallway when you come out of the shower the way I was today.”

He grinned at her, dimpling up again. “That wasn’t any big deal. With a daughter in the house I have to be careful about how I walk around anyway.”

“Still…” she said, remembering all too vividly the sight of his naked chest and feeling all over again what she’d felt then.

Carly pushed herself to her good foot and put a crutch under each arm.

“So, tomorrow you’ll show me my office?” he asked, confirming what they’d mentioned at the medical building when he’d declined the tour of the place.

“Sure.”

Bax stood then, too, and went ahead of her to the back door to open it for her. “I sleep with the window open, so if you need me during the night, just call,” he said as she started to pass through the door.

Needs she was certain were nothing like what he was referring to sprang to the forefront of her mind once more. But all Carly said was, “I think I’ll be fine.”

And then she did something catastrophic.

She glanced up at him as she passed in front of him to get through the door. Close in front of him. And an intense image of him kissing her good-night flooded through her.

This really had been the most bizarre day she’d ever spent.

“See you tomorrow,” she said in a hurry, forcing herself to look down at the ground instead of up at him and moving the rest of the way out of the house.

But as she hobbled across the breezeway, feeling his eyes following her, she couldn’t stop herself from wondering what kind of a kisser he would have been if he actually had kissed her good-night.

And then she could have kicked herself for the thought.

Because something told her that he would be as good at that as he was at handling sprained ankles.

And she had to fight hard against the desire to find out for real.

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