peeking through the shades from a different window. “My gosh, get a load of that car!”
“Get a load of those spike heels,” Wade added.
“She’s wearing leopard-skin pants!” Sam observed.
“For pity’s sake,” Jonathan said, “the woman’s going to think we’re a bunch of weirdos, peering at people through cracks in the curtains.” But his mind was focused on the comment—some hunk of woman…trashy chic…spike heels…leopard-skin pants. He was undoubtedly intrigued. Did that mean big hair and tight clothes? His heart beat a little faster at the thought even as he told himself to knock it off. The last thing he needed was to develop a crush on some fast-talking city girl.
The doorbell rang, and Allison gave an exasperated sigh. “Anyone else want to take a verbal shot at poor Sherry before I let her in? ’Cause I promise you, first person who says anything mean to her face, I’ll kick ’em clean to the Gulf of Mexico.”
As Allison opened the door, Jonathan pretended to find great interest in the TV Guide. Everyone else could make a big to-do over Sherry. He intended for her to know she’d been allowed here under protest. Agreeing to the nurse was the only way he could get Jeff to discharge him from the hospital.
“Allie, honey, you look fabulous!” The newcomer stepped through the door and enveloped Allison in a hug. “Being engaged must agree with you. Jeff, you rascal, it’s about time someone made an honest man out of you.” She kissed Jeff on the cheek.
Jonathan watched all this from the corner of his eye, getting only an impression of a slender body topped with a huge cloud of blond hair. He was dying to get a good look at her, but he didn’t want to be caught staring. And he had this niggling suspicion that he would want to stare.
Allison introduced Sherry to the rest of the crowd, including the children, who had suddenly gone mute.
Finally Jonathan couldn’t put it off. Allison was leading Sherry to his corner of the room. He looked up from the TV Guide and assumed a smile, which immediately froze on his face. Standing before him was the most fantastic creature he’d ever laid eyes on, a cross between Florence Nightingale and Madonna.
“Jonathan, this is Sherry McCormick,” Allison was saying. Jonathan was only vaguely aware of what anyone said, however, as a buzz had started in his head, drowning out everything else.
Sherry held out her hand. Her fingers were tipped with inch-long, peach nails that exactly matched her lipstick. “Nice to meet you, Jonathan. I hope I can be a big help to you.”
Her voice was high-pitched and breathy, kind of like Marilyn Monroe’s. Jonathan took her hand, which felt cool and soft against his. He squeezed it briefly and murmured some pleasantry.
This was his nurse? He could more easily picture her sashaying down a runway than pushing a wheelchair down a hospital corridor. But she was a friend of Allison’s, and she had a sincere-looking smile, so he supposed he had to trust that she had some idea of how to take care of people.
“So how did you manage to do this to yourself?” Sherry asked, indicating the full-leg fiberglass cast.
Jonathan didn’t want to talk about his accident. He hadn’t been bucked from a horse for a good many years, and it was an embarrassment that he’d let his normally placid gelding get the best of him.
“Sheer stupidity,” he finally answered, hoping it would quell her curiosity.
“Let me show you to your room,” Allison said. She looked at the small case Sherry held in her left hand. “You brought more luggage than that, right?”
“Oh, lots more,” Sherry replied. “I don’t travel light.”
“If you’ll give me your keys,” Jeff said, “I’ll bring your stuff in from the car.”
Sherry obliged him, then allowed Allison to lead her down a hallway to the bedrooms. The children, who’d been staring at Sherry as if she were some exotic animal at the zoo, trailed after the two women. “You’re right across the hall from Jonathan,” Allison was saying as their voices faded away.
“Holy cow,” Pete said, stifling a laugh.
“She’s…different,” said Edward, who made a show of mopping his round face with his handkerchief.
“Jeff warned us Sherry was flamboyant,” Wade said, grinning ear to ear. “But nothing could have prepared me for the reality. She’s kind of…”
“Kind of what?” Anne asked in a teasing voice as she joined Wade on the couch, leaning her head on his shoulder. “Last I checked, you liked big hair and tight clothes.”
Wade’s face turned ruddy. “Not for a nurse,” he murmured, though he and Anne shared an understanding look. Anne, who was normally a sedate, conservative attorney, had first caught Wade’s eye by decking herself out like a country-western singer, complete with sequins, and brazenly flirting with him at a rodeo.
Edward fixed his oldest son with a penetrating stare. “You’re awfully quiet about all this. What do you think of her? Are you comfortable with her taking care of you and the kids?”
Comfortable? Not likely, when he had an arousal like a steel bar pushing against his jeans.
He shrugged, trying to look indifferent. “I’m sure she’ll be fine, and if she’s not, I’ll send her packing.” He fervently hoped she would be a terrible nurse, and that he would find ten excuses before nightfall to fire her. Because otherwise he was going to have to work to keep his hands off her.
Chapter Two
Sherry struggled to breathe normally as Allison took her on a tour of the house. Though no women had inhabited this house for many years, it was neat and clean as a convent, calming her earlier fears. Which was good, because she had plenty of new concerns—like how she was going to remain a detached care-giver while caring for the most gorgeous man she’d ever laid eyes on.
She’d only been teasing Allison when she’d asked if Jonathan was good-looking. Normally she didn’t care what her patients looked like, only that they needed her. She’d figured that if he was related to Jeff, who was movie-star handsome, he wouldn’t be a gargoyle. But nothing had prepared her for exactly how good-looking the older brother would be—and very different from Jeff.
He was taller, for one thing. Sherry could tell even though Jonathan had been in a recliner. He was rangier, too—a bit broader in the shoulders, more sinewy, like a cowboy from those old cigarette billboards. His face still held on to its summer tan, though it was almost winter. His dark, wavy hair, a little unruly, was nothing like Jeff’s sun-burnished locks. But it was the eyes that really caught Sherry in a snare. Dark, mysterious, wary. Nothing tickled her libido faster than a man with secrets to hide.
Unfortunately, her policy was strictly hands-off when it came to her patients. What a bummer. Why couldn’t a guy like him show up in her life when she could actually take advantage?
Well, she might not be here that long, she reminded herself. The man’s superficial smile hadn’t extended to his eyes. Jonathan Hardison didn’t want her in his house.
She didn’t always make a great first impression. That was something she’d
