Authors: Janis McCurry
“Well, that was interesting, to say the least.” Tess sounded breathless. Her curves nestled against him and he felt her pounding heart.
She didn’t move away but lay there watching him. He pressed a kiss on her forehead. “I must have dozed off. I can see why you’re such a good nurse.”
Silent, she stared at him with her expressive eyes. Why had he thought they were icy? He’d like to dive into their deep blue warmth. Would he piss her off by kissing her like he wanted to? From what he knew about her so far, she’d feel free to voice her feelings.
“Bailey, I—”
The shrill ring of the phone cut her off. Neither of them moved. It rang a second and third time. With a sigh, Tess carefully lifted herself from his lap and crossed to the phone.
“Hello.”
Bailey silently cursed whoever was calling. To say it was lousy timing was an understatement.
“Mrs. Douglas, calm down. Have you tried the inhaler? Okay, okay. Sit Joey down and practice the breathing pattern I showed you. I'll wait.” Tess’s focus on the call was unwavering.
Bailey didn’t think he could’ve gotten her attention if he’d stripped and sang the Star Spangled Banner at the top of his lungs. All business, she concentrated on helping her patient, as far removed as possible from the soft bundle of woman who’d warmed his body a few minutes earlier.
“He’s better? Now try the inhaler again. And, Mrs. Douglas, the calmer you are, the safer Joey will feel.”
Tess ran her fingers through her short curls. He wanted to sink his hands into them, mess them up. That nervous gesture was the only sign that showed she wasn’t as serene as she sounded on the phone.
“You have to convince him he’ll be all right.” She paused. “Great, he’ll be tired after the episode. Sit with him until he falls asleep so he knows you’re with him. No, don’t ever hesitate to call me at home. Remember, I’m going on vacation for four weeks. Susan Miller will be taking my route. Yes, I’m looking forward to it. Good-night.” Tess hung up the receiver and heaved a shaky sigh.
“You’re good, Contessa.” He meant it. He’d seen how skilled she was at nursing twice tonight.
“Thanks, but asthma attacks still scare me. They can go wrong fast. Joey’s only nine years old. He still panics sometimes, even though he’s been diagnosed since age five.” Tess shrugged and moved to the couch. “His mom’s a trouper but he can sense her fear and it makes his attacks worse.”
“Asthma, huh. There’s no cure?” Bailey had his own interest in the topic.
“Kids grow out of it, sometimes. It depends. So far, we can manage the disease. With severe cases, we can’t even do that.” Tess yawned, barely covering her mouth. “I’m sorry. It’s been a long day. Do you mind if we call it a night?” She stood and walked to the door. “Thanks for bringing back the tire iron.”
Bailey had learned how to work out details as they unfolded. The plan formulated in his brain at the speed of light. “You seem to know a lot about asthma.”
“I studied up on it when I met Joey,” she explained.
“Don’t some people fake attacks?” He had to play this right or he’d lose her.
“What on earth are you talking about? What possible reason would anyone have to fake such a debilitating disease?”
Bailey set the hook. “Well, this guy I’m looking for
supposedly
suffers from asthma. I figure he’s faking. After all, he’s embezzled over two million dollars from his company.” Now, he’d play out the line a little. “Sorry. You don’t want to hear about my business.”
“If he isn’t faking it—and you’d better find out for sure—you have be careful. Stress and harsh treatment can bring on an episode very easily.” She stepped away from the door and moved closer.
Good, she took the bait. Better not lay it on too thick. Bailey started reeling her in. “Oh, well, after I catch him, maybe I can find a doctor at one of our stops...
if
he really has asthma.” He started for the door; sure she would stop him.
“Wait, shouldn’t you find out before you ‘catch’ him whether he’s sick? I mean, don’t you guys use computers to find things out? He must have doctor or pharmacy bills.”
“I checked it out. But, if the crook can scam money electronically, he can forge a few documents. Maybe I can persuade him to tell the truth.” A little heavy-handed, but sometimes you had to give the hook a little yank.
“I’m beginning to understand why Pyewacket scratched you. He can obviously see into your soul.”
Uh-oh, time to retrench.
“Contessa, I don’t want the guy hurt or sick. I'll take as good care of him as I can. My clients need to know where the money is. I’m not one of the bad guys and I don’t beat up people for fun. It’s just that...” Bailey paused for effect. “From what I heard tonight, there’s a lot I don’t know about asthma. I hope I don’t lose him because of my lack of experience.”
It was time to net Tess Hazard.
* * *
The first time she woke up and looked, her digital clock read one o’clock. She fluffed her pillow and counted sheep. At two-thirty, she turned on her radio. Four o’clock rolled around and she gave up. She rose and mopped the kitchen floor, taking time to scrub the baseboards. Then, she showered and washed her hair.
She told herself her lack of sleep stemmed from Pyewacket’s determination to stake his claim to her pillow. He had lots of other space on the bed. But, no, the cat wanted to sleep on that particular piece of pillow even though it meant Tess got a nose full of fur.
She tried to tell herself she would’ve slept soundly if she’d tossed the space-invading cat out of the room.
Hah! And who are you kidding, anyway?
She knew Bailey’s words had kept her awake. Or rather, his asthmatic bail jumper’s health issues.
Tess pulled on an oversized Green Bay Packer T-shirt and padded barefoot into the kitchen to start the coffee. Whether or not some crook had an attack of asthma and died before Bailey could get him back to Portland had nothing to do with her. The first rule of a nurse’s vacation involved absolutely no sick people.
“Meoww?” Obviously, Pyewacket had mastered the question, “where’s my breakfast” in his formative years.
“I should make you wait until we negotiate where you’re going to sleep. You could stand to lose a few pounds, you know,” Tess sternly rebuked the cat. He ruined the effect by brushing along her legs and purring, which caused her to lean over and pet him.
“Some pet owner I am. It’s nice to know I run my house with an iron hand. Next thing, I'll be asking you if I can scoot over any farther in the bed.” Pyewacket flopped over on his side so she could scratch his stomach.
The sound of the doorbell interrupted her fascinating feline conversation. Who’d be calling at—she looked at the kitchen clock—eight-thirty on a Saturday morning? She went to the front door and peered out the peephole. Bailey, that’s who. She might’ve known. What was it they said about bad pennies? Heaving a deep sigh, she opened the door a crack.
“Morning. Can I come in?” Looking impossibly fit and awake, he stood on her threshold. Dressed in Levi cutoffs and red muscle shirt, he was gorgeous.
Tess felt her cheeks warm. “I’m not dressed for company. What brings you here?”
“You look fine to me. I’m a Packer fan, myself.”
There it was again. The killer smile that almost melted the fillings out of her teeth. If he ever knew how he affected her, he’d run for his life. Or he should.
“Please, Contessa, it’d really help me out if we could talk.” He held up a white sack. “I brought doughnuts.” He took one maple bar out and waved it in front of her nose.
“What, no low-cholesterol health-conscious bran muffin?” She was determined to be cranky.
“You know, I thought about that, but something told me you were a coffee and doughnuts type of woman. Besides, I'd rather eat doughnuts. I bought apple fritters, too.”
Satan in a ponytail stood in her door.
Gorgeous.
Seductive.
Damn it.
Giving up, she promised herself she’d hit the treadmill for three extra miles today. “Okay, but just for a little while. You’re lucky I started the coffee.” She stepped back and opened the door the rest of the way. She inhaled his woodsy outdoors aftershave as he passed by.
Lord, give me the strength to remember this man is a barbarian
.
Bailey headed for the kitchen, but not before he stopped to look at her with suddenly intense eyes. Tess was conscious that the T-shirt covered her only to mid-thigh. And by the flare in his chocolate-colored eyes, he’d noted that fact the minute he’d walked in. Chocolate. She loved chocolate. She wanted to answer his look with one equally heated.
Don’t you dare!
She blushed, stunned at her wayward thoughts. “Help yourself to the coffee. I’ll be right back.” She beat a swift retreat to her bedroom to put on her Levi’s. She planned to be as covered as possible when dealing with him.
She wasn’t going to fall for him. However, it wouldn’t hurt to run the brush through her hair and get rid of her morning breath. She would’ve done that with any unexpected guest.
To be polite.
Bailey had found a plate for the doughnuts and poured two cups of coffee. Sitting at the table and looking through the morning paper he’d brought with him, he presented the very picture of domesticity. Tess wanted to slap him. He was certainly making himself comfortable in her home. Then, she wanted to slap
herself
because she liked seeing him there.
He looked up when she entered the room. “Just in time. Here’s your coffee.”
The man had no shame. He’d put both a maple bar and an apple fritter on the plate he pushed in front of her. The decadent aroma lured her and she decided that Bailey the Bounty Hunter was hazardous to her health. But what a way to go.
She sipped her coffee, hoping the caffeine would prepare her for battling the attraction she felt for this man. How did she get ready for what looked to be a hurricane of a ride with Mr. S.D. Bailey? He didn’t look like the settling down kind of man and she refused to be anyone’s conquest.
“Not that I can’t be bought by a maple bar, but what brings you here?” Tess focused her gaze at his right ear so she wouldn’t have to look into his eyes. Dark eyes. Dark and warm. Warm as a chocolate fondue. Sweet, too. Dark and warm and sweet.
She lost track of time at the fantasy.
“Sounds like the best money I'd ever spend.” His eyes crinkled in the corners and he grinned. “I’m worried about this asthma thing. Do you really think it could be serious?”
Damn him! She hated it when he turned sincere. “Yes, it can be life-threatening, depending on the severity.”
“Well, I was wondering if I could borrow some books on the disease. That way, if Lucius has an attack, I can handle him.”
“Lucius?"
“Yeah, Lucius Monroe. That’s the embezzler I’m hunting.” He said ‘hunting’ like he was bagging game.
“He sounds like someone’s uncle.” Tess couldn’t believe she was sitting in her kitchen casually discussing tracking down a human being.
“Rich uncle, that’s for sure. Anyway, about the books...”
“You can’t be serious. Asthma is a complex disease. You can’t read up on it and expect to handle a patient in full respiratory distress.” Tess stood and paced over to the sink. Looking out the window, she said, “With no formal training? How long do you expect to be gone?”
“I figure I'll be back with him in Portland in a week. Two weeks tops. I doubt he’ll go sour on me in that short of time, will he?”
She turned around and looked at him. “You have no idea what you’re up against. An asthma attack can start within seconds. Anything might trigger it. Excitement. Fatigue.
Stress
.”
“Well, it’s not like I have a doctor I can take along with me.” He rose from the table and joined her. “Do you think I should hire someone?”
“It doesn’t take two weeks to get to Tahoe and back. Why so long?”
“Once we get to Portland and he lawyers up, it could take months of plea bargains to get him to talk. My clients insist I try to find out where he’s stashed the money. To do that, I have to run an undercover scheme on him.” Bailey idly drew a circle with his finger on the counter beside her. “I’m going to get him to trust a new friend he met at the tables in Tahoe. He might give himself away. Worth a try.”
He wore the same spicy aftershave Tess had noticed the first time she bent over him at the accident. The assault on her senses almost made her eyes close before she remembered she’d planned to resist his magnetism.
This pheromone stuff may have something to it. This guy made her knees weak whenever he came within grabbing...or kissing distance. She’d be crazy to purposely put herself in the position where she’d be working with him.
Tess edged two steps toward the coffee maker, hoping her movement looked natural and not like a terrified escape. “More coffee?”
“Half-cup, thanks.” Bailey followed her back to the table where she refilled his mug. “Well?”
“Well, what? Oh, someone who could go with you...I...I’ll have to think about it. It won’t be easy; no one knows you. You could be an ax murderer asking someone to go off with you to do your worst.” She sat down across from him and fingered her coffee mug.