Page 35 of Deadly Strain

“Fine. Housekeeper, maid, girl Friday, whatever you want to call a woman who cleans up after you. I’m not it.”

Sharp sighed with all the theatricaloomphhe could muster and said, “Mom?”

Grace pushed him over with a shove from both hands.

He rolled with it until he was a couple of feet away. Thank God he’d managed to keep her off the ledge this time with nothing more than his sweaty self. He glanced up and froze at the sight of Grace taking her shirt off. She shrugged out of the left sleeve and lifted her arm up to eye level. “This one isn’t as bad as the one on my leg.”

Sharp hardly heard her. He was too busy staring at the finest set of breasts he’d ever seen. She wasn’t wearing any fancy lingerie, just the opposite. Her bra was beige, plain, and appeared to be more solid than some canvas tents. No, what had his attention were breasts bigger than he’d imagined, and he’d imagined hers a lot. And her waist was smaller than he’d expected. Her body armor made her look more padded around the midsection than she really was.

She washot.

And very, very quiet.

He lifted his gaze to meet hers. Oops, she was giving him the stink eye. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it. They’re—” he glanced down again real quick “—amazing, and wow, you’re totally gorgeous, you know that, right?” So much for professional, jackass.

She rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe you turned into a college junior just by looking at my boobs. I’m wearing more fabric than most bikinis.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “Don’t put that image in my head. Have you no compassion? No pity?”

“Fine. Here. They’re covered up.”

He cracked open one eye. She’d brought her shirt across her chest to cover herself.

“Now, can we get on with dealing with my arm?”

Damn. That fabulous view was all gone. He should have kept his mouth shut.

Patching up her arm took less time than her leg. Then she turned around and put her shirt back on.

Spoilsport.

“Your turn,” she said. “Take off your pants. I want to take a look at your thigh.”

On one hand, he was happy to take off his pants and get that wound dealt with. The problem was, now he knew just how much she loved being touched, how her internal muscles had gripped his finger, and he could imagine what it would feel like when they gripped his cock. He was primed and ready to go all over again.

Waiting was only going to make her pissed at him again. Might as well get the yelling over with. He began to disarm all the extra gear strapped to that leg, then went to work on his belt. Just before he pulled down his fly, he cleared his throat and said, “Don’t take thistoopersonally, okay?”

Grace frowned. “Take what personally?”

He pulled his pants down enough to pull his leg out, and managed to keep the bulge in his underwear somewhat hidden. He wasn’t sure if he wanted her to notice or not. A smart man would go for not, but he’d been all kinds of stupid today. “Never mind.”

Grace shook her head and leaned forward to prod his thigh.

Having her head so close to him made things even bigger than they already were. Fuck, she was killing him.

“Looks like a through-and-through. I’ll clean it now, but it may need to be cleaned again.”

“No problem, Doc. I expected that.” If she didn’t hurry up, he was going to poke a hole in his shorts.

She didn’t use Steri-Strips on him; rather, she used iodine to clean the wounds, packed the holes, front and back, then covered them with pads and began bandaging them both to his leg with another self-adhesive bandage. They were rapidly running out of those.

She couldn’t quite get the roll of bandage around his leg. He was still holding his pants over his crotch. She nudged his hand.

“Uh, Doc, maybe I could do this part?”

“You need two hands and a clear view of where the bandage is going. Not happening. Move.”

He hesitated. This was going to suck.