Page 25 of Untouchable

When Breah left, Kelly managed to drink most of her cup of coffee. She was feeling pretty crappy, but at least the nausea and dizziness seemed to have passed.

It would be wise to make herself look somewhat appealing when Caleb stopped by.

No way could she be sexy or beautiful this morning, but a wan, rumpled sleepiness could have its own allure.

She sat up all the way and decided her head could stand a quick trip to the bathroom. So she stumbled over to the adjoining bathroom, used it as quickly as she could, then washed her hands and splashed some water on her face.

Bringing her hands up, she worked some on her hair. It was still in the braid she’d been wearing last night, so she patted down the lumps and stray frizzes and then pulled a few more strands loose, softening her face. The slight bruise under her eyeemphasized her pale skin and made her appear more wounded and helpless.

The oversized T-shirt she wore swallowed her body, but there was nothing to do about that now.

When she returned to the bed, she arranged the covers so they looked even more mussed. And then she poured herself another cup of coffee.

She’d just arranged herself as best she could, pulling the large T-shirt to one side to expose as much of her shoulder as she could and efficiently rubbing her nipples until they peaked—she did so under the covers in case there was a security camera somewhere in the room—when there was a light tap on the door.

“What?” she called out. She was getting nervous, so her voice hadn’t sounded very welcoming. In fact, it sounded rather grumpy.

The door opened and Caleb appeared in the doorway, dressed in a charcoal-gray suit with a black dress shirt and tie. His eyebrows lifted as he greeted her dryly. “Good morning to you too.”

“Sorry. Good morning. Thank you for your help last night.” She tried to focus on her strategy, but his presence was very distracting. And very upsetting.

His lips quirked in an appealing expression of dry amusement. “You’re welcome.”

Kelly let out a deep sigh, noticing how Caleb’s eyes lingered first on her bare neck and shoulder and then lower, where her nipples were poking out through the thin cotton of the shirt. After a pause, she said, “I really do appreciate your help, Caleb. But I don’t want you to ask me any more questions. My problems are my own, and I don’t want anyone else dragged into them.”

“And if I want to be dragged into them?”

“That’s too bad. I had no choice but to accept your help last night, but that doesn’t mean we’re anything but strangers.”

Caleb’s eyes narrowed as if she had surprised him. “I guess that’s true. How are you feeling?”

She shrugged. “Good enough. I still have a headache.”

“Well, stay here and take the day to recover,” he told her, using a textured, persuasive voice that would be irresistible to most women.

“I can recover on my own. If you’ll just get me to my car?—”

He shook his head in quiet exasperation. “I’m not going to take you to your car. There’s no reason for you to run off before you’re fit to do so. The doctor said you needed complete rest today and maybe tomorrow too. You should stay here. I’m not going to tie you up and torture you in the basement.” His eyes blazed hot briefly. “Unless you ask very nicely.”

The sexiness was probably second nature for him. He was curious about her now and liked playing the hero, but she was still mostly a sexual object to him.

It was good. It was the only advantage she had in this room.

She groaned softly and settled her head against the pillow. Arching her back slightly, she stretched her body in a way that tightened the shirt against her breasts. She noticed another flare—this one less obvious, more real—ignite in his eyes. “I can’t even think about sex right now. So don’t be hoping to live out some sort of twisted fantasy. I’ll stay here for a little while, until I’m feeling better. But then I’m going to leave.”

“But—”

“We’re strangers. We’restrangers. Why are you insisting on helping me?”

“Out of the goodness of my heart?” The upward lilt at the end made the words an ironic question.

She suppressed a quick laugh at the wry humor, hating herself for thinking he was funny.

“At least stay here today,” he said after a moment. “You’re not in any shape to drive, and you’re safer here than anywhere else.”

“Safer?”

Narrowing his eyes, he said slowly, “My understanding was that someone came after you last night. I assume they’re still after you.”