Authors: Kimberley Reeves
"I think I need to take a wash cloth to your face. You look like a little street urchin.”
“It feels like my whole body is covered with dust,” she said, frowning at the streaks of dirt on her shirt and arms.
Taking that as consent, Jack retrieved a clean dish towel from one of the drawers and dampened the material with warm water. “Tip your head back and close your eyes.”
She did as he asked; her upturned face tempting Jack with a powerful urge to kiss her. The unexpected flare of desire passed quickly, however, when a vision of Abby thumping him over the head with her bandaged hands brought him to his senses. With a resigned sigh, Jack carefully wiped the dirt from her face and then proceeded to cleanse her arms.
“I really do appreciate this, Jack,” she said after he’d rinsed the cloth and was seated in front of her again.
He brushed it off with a shrug and ordered Abby to lift her head, which she promptly obeyed, sighing contentedly when he ran the warm cloth under her chin and around her neck.
“That feels divine,” she purred.
If he’d been thinking with his brain instead of letting his libido run the show, Jack would have bolted out of there instead of studying the delicate line of her jaw, her graceful neck, the exquisite cleavage that was only inches from his fingertips. When the cloth reached the enticing swell of her breasts, his hand froze.
“Abby? What about your…um...your…”
She opened her eyes and grinned. “They’re called breasts, Jack.”
“I know what they’re called, sweetheart, I just didn’t want to get whopped alongside the head if you didn’t want me to finish the job.”
“I’m pretty helpless here, so if you don’t mind…”
His hand was shaking as he moved the cloth over her soft skin and dipped it just beneath the neck-line of her blouse. A cold sweat was beginning to bead on his forehead as he struggled to control raging hormones that hadn’t been this out of control since he was a bumbling teenager. Jack tried to recall the last time he’d been with a woman and if she had excited him the way Abby Travis did, but his mind couldn’t seem to move past the tantalizing view of her chest as it rose and fell with each stilted breath.
Feeling like a clock that had been over wound, he nearly came unglued when his fingertips accidentally brushed against her bare skin. Yanking his hand back as if he’d been shocked, Jack jumped up from his seat and made a hasty retreat to the kitchen sink. Purposely keeping his back to her, he struggled to think of something else,
anything
else, to prevent the evidence of his arousal from being so blatantly obvious.
“I think that about does it,” he said a little unevenly.
Abby didn’t reply right away. He wondered what she thought about a full grown man who got embarrassed over the light brush his hand made against her breast. Then again, given her lack of response, it was entirely possible she hadn’t even noticed his adolescent behavior. Jack couldn’t decide what was more humiliating; his over-reacting or Abby’s indifference.
“Jack? I don’t suppose you could help me with just one more little thing?”
Jack’s head shot up. “What would that be?” he asked gruffly.
“Well, I can barely lift my arms even after that wonderful massage. I was wondering…if it’s not too much trouble…do you think you could help me get into something clean and a little more comfortable?”
Jack’s head dropped. She was trying to kill him, that’s all there was to it. He turned to look at her, and for just a fraction of a second, he saw the sparkle of amusement in her eyes before she masked it.
“You really want a perfect stranger to undress you?”
“Well, not
completely
undress me,” she replied sweetly. “At any rate, once you’ve tried to kill a man with an axe, you can hardly call him a stranger.”
Jack laughed, shaking his head. “I guess you have a point there.” He leaned back against the sink and crossed his arms. “What would you have done if I wasn’t here?”
“Wear the same clothes for a few days, although I can’t imagine I would have smelled very appealing at the end of it.”
The grin he gave her was rakish. “You’re in a pretty big bind, aren’t you, sweetheart?”
“A much bigger bind than what you’re talking about. I have a deadline to meet and this is going to keep me from even getting started. I’m behind before I’ve even begun.”
“You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Deadly serious,” Abby sighed.
“Is here anything I can do to help?”
“Not unless you can type sixty plus words a minute,” she said with a rueful smile.
“Is that all?”
Her expression blossomed into one of hope. “You really type that fast?”
“Faster on a good day.”
“And you would be willing to help me for the next few days?”
“Sure. What is it, reports of some sort or letters?”
“No, I’m a novelist. I would need you to type as I dictate.”
“I think I can manage that.”
She eyed him suspiciously for a moment. “You’re not putting me on, are you?”
Jack grinned. “Abby, have I ever lied to you before?”
“Maybe we should do this in the bedroom,” Abby said. “I know it sounds silly, but I would feel more comfortable changing clothes in there.”
Jack crossed the room and offered his hand. “You’re going to need my help.”
Abby shook her head. Despite the strain on her overwrought muscles, she managed to push herself up from the chair with a prideful sense of accomplishment. For one brief, shining moment she deluded herself into believing she could walk the short distance to her bedroom without his assistance. She took two full steps before her legs threatened to give out on her. Teetering precariously, Abby laughed as she fell into Jack’s arms.
“Okay, you were right,” she conceded. “That’s twice I’ve rejected your offer to help and nearly ended up landing on my backside.”
Jack clenched his teeth. With her tight little body pressed against him, reining in his imagination was an exercise in futility. She felt good.
Too damn good
. Abby Travis was a distraction he definitely didn’t need right now, not with so much work to do and the pressure of a deadline nipping at his heels. With one arm firmly around her waist, he propelled her down the hall and into her bedroom. He eased Abby onto the edge of the bed, quickly relinquishing his hold on her before he did something stupid like kiss her.
“Dresser or closet?” he asked, intending to gather Abby’s clothes for her and then high tail it out of there. The wretched woman apparently missed the agitation in his voice, or perhaps she chose to ignore it. The smile she flashed him was innocent and apologetic; her words, on the other hand, were highly suggestive.
“Anything in the closet is fine, but I’m a little reluctant to change without cleaning up first. I know I’ve imposed on you already, but I’ll be miserable all night if my back starts to itch. I really hate to ask, but…would you mind washing my back?”
Helping Abby remove her blouse and into a fresh one was going to stretch his honorability about as far as it would go; taking a damp cloth and gliding it over her bare skin was simply inviting trouble. It would be a huge mistake…colossal, in fact, but any noble intentions that remained were slowly being shredded by the imploring gaze she leveled at him. Jack shook his head. She had to know what she was doing to him, how tenuous the hold on his restraint, and yet she continued to test him with a teasing smile that belied the look of innocence in her eyes.
Apparently, Sam Travis hadn’t felt it necessary to tell his daughter that Jack only agreed to take payment for tending to the cabin because Sam insisted on it. And she obviously didn’t recognize his name, or maybe she just hadn’t equated it to the literary world he belonged to because she believed he was merely the hired help; some backwoods dim-wit who couldn’t refrain from panting over the carrot she dangled in front of him but would never have the courage to touch for fear of losing his job. She was deliberately toying with him, Jack was sure of it, which made him far angrier than the situation called for.
Because you want her, don’t you, Jack? Because you want nothing more than to lay her down across that damnable blue comforter, slowly strip her clothes off, and sink into her feminine warmth while you watch her shatter into a million pieces.
Except that wasn’t going to happen, not in this lifetime. He wasn’t good enough for the likes of Abby Travis, regardless of the physical attraction simmering between them. Let her think he was nothing more than a caretaker; it would prevent him from wasting any more time fanaticizing about making love to her. But that didn’t mean he was going to walk away without giving her a piece of his mind first.
“Do you find it entertaining to play games, Miss Travis?”
“Games? Is that what you think I’m doing?”
“You’re very good, I’ll give you that. You enjoy being a tease; inviting a man to touch you - purposely shrouding the underlying evocative nature beneath a layer of innocence. And what happens when he accepts? The cold shoulder? Feigned shock that he would get the wrong idea? An indignant reproach?”
He leaned down, his mouth mere inches from hers. “Is this what poor little rich girls do when they get bored?” She shook her head, but Jack was confident he’d nailed it on the head. It was clear to him now that Abby knew what he did for a living, that he’d made a name for himself, and yet he still didn’t rank high enough on her rich-bitch scale to earn anything except her mockery. “You know, honey, you almost had me. Right up to the part where you tried to convince me you were a novelist. Did that amuse you, choosing a profession I would identify with?”
“Wh-what do you mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean,” Jack growled.
He rose to his full height, infuriated by the look of bewilderment on her face. Skewering Abby with a heated glare, Jack was disgusted to discover an apology hovering on the tip of his tongue when she shrank away from him. Maybe spending so much time alone had softened his brain; what other explanation could there be for how gullible he’d been, how easily he’d been roped in by her helpless kitten routine?
Without another word, he stomped out of the room, followed by the haunting image of Abby staring inanely at him as if she didn’t have the faintest idea what he was talking about. Muttering under his breath, Jack made his way back up the hill to his own cabin. It was pitch black outside, but he was used to going up and down the trail at night and didn’t really need a light.
“Novelist, my ass,” he snorted.
Women who looked like Abby Travis were models or ornaments for a rich man’s arm. They did
not
hide themselves away from world, consumed with the desire to create a story from the words rattling around in their head. Well, he wasn’t going to play the role of her love-sick man-servant no matter how tempting it was to turn the tables and watch her pant after
him
! What he felt for Abby was lust, pure and simple. He would get over it. Besides, he highly doubted that Sam Travis had the seduction of his daughter in mind when he’d asked Jack to watch over her.
His cabin was barely visible as he emerged from the path, but Jack’s stride never faltered. He took the steps leading up to his balcony with confidence, still angry with Abby but even more perturbed at himself for allowing her to get under his skin. Before going inside Jack stood near the railing, peering down at the Travis cabin. The light from her bedroom pierced the darkness, and since she hadn’t drawn the curtains yet, he had a clear view of Abby. He could see she hadn’t moved. Hell, she was probably upset he’d caught on to her so fast. It occurred to him that she must know he could see her from his balcony and hadn’t quite finished with him yet.
His groin tightened instantly at the thought of watching Abby slowly peel her clothing off. He had no doubt she would make it as painful for him as possible; a private strip tease that would leave him shaken and hard as a rock with nothing except an ice cold shower to relieve the growing ache inside. Desire warred with decency for several minutes before the ring tone on his phone made the decision for him.
With a regretful sigh, Jack left Abby to perform her show with only the silent forest for an audience.
***
Abby sat on the bed, staring at the wall. As if she had a choice to do anything else! Maybe she
had
been playing with him just a little when she asked him to help her change clothes, but the truth was she couldn’t lift her arms higher than a few inches without her muscles protesting in pain. Now she really was in a world of hurt because she wasn’t even sure she had the strength to stand without falling flat on her face.
“Nice job,” she said out loud, “the only neighbor for miles and miles, and you go and piss him off.”
She had to admit her first impression of Jack as a grizzly bear had been altered considerably once she’d gotten a closer look at him. Beneath all that facial hair was an incredibly handsome man, and despite Abby’s talent at describing the hunky heroes in her romance novels, she couldn’t even begin to describe the effect his wholly masculine physique and gentle touch had on her. Naturally, she’d been frightened when he came charging into the clearing, but the spark of humor he’d shown and the careful way he tended to her hands had erased the wariness. There were a few times when she’d felt the attraction between them was mutual. Until, of course, Jack mistakenly interpreted her genuine interest in him as nothing more than a game. Well, she’d gotten herself into this pickle and would just have to get herself out of it.
Abby maneuvered to the edge of the bed, every movement creating tiny jabs of needle-sharp pain that made her feel like a human pin cushion. Gritting her teeth, she pushed up with her hands, groaning when the friction against her raw skin caused a new rush of stinging pain. She was tired and hungry and would have kicked herself in the rear for being so stupid if she had been capable of moving her leg that high. Drawing in a deep breath, her aching muscles straining against her, Abby forced herself to stand.
Her legs felt like limp spaghetti and it seemed that all the muscles in her calves and thighs were working together to topple her over. If she could get to the kitchen, maybe eat something, she might regain some strength. She took a small step forward, her whole body trembling from the effort as hot tears of anger and frustration rolled down her cheeks. Abby hated being weak, hated giving in; she was determined to reach that kitchen if it took her all night to do it!
Abby took a second unsteady step, furious with herself for being so stubborn and foolish about chopping wood even after that first jarring swing told her there would be retribution for it later. She shuffled to the middle of the room, her grumbling stomach a constant reminder that she wouldn’t feel so woozy right now had she taken the time to eat. It didn’t help that her legs were quivering like jello or that her emotional state was still in an upheaval over the harsh accusations Jack had hurled at her before storming out.
She stopped a few feet short of the doorway, frantically reaching out for the dresser as a wave of dizziness zapped the last of her strength. Abby let out a cry of alarm as her knees buckled beneath her. She heard the dull thump a fraction of a second before the sharp pain speared through her head. And then there was nothing as the room faded to black.
***
After an unusually lengthy conversation with his editor, Jack was ready to call it night. It was the same old story over and over. His books were hitting the top ten seller list on a regular basis but he could do so much better if he would pay more attention to the love scenes. Jack snorted. What the hell did he know about love scenes? He had several lady friends that he took out now and then but hadn’t slept with a woman for almost two years.
As long as he remained on the mountain where his mind was occupied with writing, he rarely thought about his lack of female companionship. Then Abby Travis had to take the only cabin within miles and flaunt her sexy little body in front of him. She was a beautiful woman with a quirky sense of humor that he found appealing, and there was a definite sexual attraction. His libido had gone into overdrive when he’d stood behind her at the sink with his thighs pressed against that sweet bottom of hers. He’d felt the stark difference between her soft, feminine curves and the harder planes and angles of his own body and was instantly aroused. There was no way to hide it and not a chance in hell it had gone unnoticed; it was no wonder she’d pegged him as easy prey.
Jack drifted out to the balcony, idly wondering how the prima donna was handling her first night alone in the woods. It could be pretty spooky if you weren’t used to the sounds of the woodland creatures. Not that he cared whether she was frightened or not, Jack told himself. With any luck, it would send her racing back to the city where she belonged. Except…the thought of Abby cowering under her covers made something twist deep inside him.
The light from her bedroom was like a beacon, drawing Jack’s eyes to the woman standing as motionless as a statue. He watched her for several minutes, his brows creasing.
What was she doing?
She hadn’t changed clothes and obviously hadn’t taken a shower yet, so why was she just standing there? He went back into the cabin and grabbed the binoculars out of his desk drawer then returned to the balcony.
He leaned over the rail, turning the dial to focus the lenses. Even from here, he could tell by how pale she was that Abby was distressed.
About the things he’d said before he left, or because she really was a writer and was afraid he wouldn’t help as he had promised?
A twinge of remorse had him conducting a mental debate on whether it would be an act of kindness to extend an olive branch or pure stupidity. He was leaning towards pure stupidity when he saw Abby make a wild grab for the dresser and abruptly drop out of his view.
Jack moved the glasses around, swearing under his breath when he finally zeroed in on her. Abby was lying on the floor and it didn’t look as if she was making any attempt to get up. She may have been playing him with those seductive suggestions but he knew she hadn’t been faking how sore her muscles were. No matter how angry he was with her, he should have stayed and made sure she was settled in for the night.
Dropping the binoculars, he barreled down the stairs and tore down the path at a dead run. Racing around to the sliding glass doors in her living room, he slipped through and was inside Abby’s bedroom in a matter of seconds. Jack heard her soft moan at the same instant his eyes lit upon the small patches of blood smeared on the throw rug beneath her.