He made space on his bedside table by pushing pill bottles and an empty glass to the side.
“I—ah, I didn’t know what you liked. So I brought you a little bit of everything.” She put the plate and the napkin roll down. “Do you want me to get you some water?”
“Thanks.”
She picked up the glass and went for the bathroom. At the sink, she ran the water until it was cold under her fingertips and then filled the tumbler up. When she came back, she noticed he hadn’t touched the food.
She looked at him. His eyes were hooded as he watched her every movement.
“You should eat it while it’s hot.” She put the glass down.
“Probably.” He shifted his head, regarding her with disarming stillness. “So how well do you know that guy?”
“Who?”
“O’Banyon. Wasn’t that his name?”
Talk about out of left field, she thought.
“I, ah, I know him fairly well. He was Reese’s investment banker, but he’s also a dear friend of Gray’s. They went to school together.” She frowned. “Are you going to eat?”
“You sound like my sisters.” But he picked up the napkin, unwrapped the heavy silver and leaned to one side, considering what was on the plate.
He looked about as enthused as someone facing a traffic jam.
After dropping a couple of peas on the way to his mouth, and struggling to cut up the meat, he leaned back against the pillow. He wasn’t giving up, she thought. Just bored and uninterested.
“Here, let me help you.” She snatched the fork from his hand.
“I don’t need—”
Ignoring him, she sat down on the mattress and put the plate in her lap. With a low groan, he deliberately moved his body away. Even though it made him wince.
Trying to ignore his aversion, she made busy work cutting up the roast. Then she loaded the fork and faced off with him.
He glared at her, lips pressed tight.
“Open your mouth,” she said.
“I’m not a child.”
“Then prove it. Accept the help you need and eat.”
Oh, man, he was pissed off. His body was practically vibrating.
But he did what she asked. And as soon as the fork was clean, she piled it high again.
On the fourth trip to his mouth, she made a mistake. She watched his lips as they parted. Watched the bright white of his front teeth clamp down on the silver. Watched the fork emerge, empty. She saw his jaw working as he chewed, the hollows under his cheekbones undulating. Then his Adam’s apple slid up and down in his throat as he swallowed.
She became curiously aware of the width of his shoulders. Of the thick cords of muscle that ran up his neck. Of the way his hair curled over the collar of his shirt.
“Cassandra,” he snapped. As if he’d said her name more than once.
Startled, she looked at his face. His eyes were cold.
“I said, that’s enough. I’ll take it from here.”
He grabbed the fork and the plate.
Cass got off the bed. “I’ll be back for the dishes.”
“Don’t bother.”
“It’s no—”
“Besides, I’m sure you’ll be otherwise occupied at the end of the night.”
“What?”
“Does O’Banyon like to get babied? You cut up his meat for him, too? Mommy love ain’t a turn-on for me, but hey, every man’s different, right?”
It was hard to know whether his tone or his words were more insulting, she thought.
She opened her mouth, but he cut her off.
“Before you tell me I’m a bastard, I already know that. And if you’re thinking of branching out from there, I’ve had bigger, tougher and more creative sailors take a run at my hide. You’re going to have to do a real stand-up job with the curses to come up with anything fresh, sweetheart. Oh, I’m sorry, it’s baby cakes, isn’t it?”
His eyes raked over her with such complete dismissal, she felt as though she was mostly invisible but that what little he saw of her, he despised.
He laughed at her silence. “Not even going to take a try at it? Good call. Because there’s absolutely nothing you can say to me that’ll be a news flash.”
She brushed her hair back, hand trembling. In the space of a minute, he’d driven her to the brink of tears. Again.
“I just don’t understand why I’m so repulsive to you,” she whispered. “I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve—”
She stopped. Showing more vulnerability was not a smart move.
Cass turned away as the first humiliating tear got stuck in her lashes.
Damn it, she was not going to cry in front of him.
As she bolted across the room, the curse he let out was low and vile.
“Cassandra.”
She grabbed for the door.
“Cassandra.”
When she heard a flurry of activity on the bed and something hit the floor, she looked over her shoulder.
Alex was upright and wildly off balance, trying to lurch toward her after having dropped the crutch. If he went much farther, he was going to fall on his face. She rushed back for him.
Chapter Three
Alex had a feeling he was headed for the floor, but he didn’t care.
Man, he’d been wrong. She had surprised him. Her soft, sad words had ripped through his chest.
As he tumbled forward into thin air, she lunged for him. But the moment before her body met his, he pushed her aside and threw his arms out, bracing himself for impact. Going solo for the thin oriental rug was a no-brainer.
Because however hard the floor was going to be, knowing how she felt against him would be harder.
He took the brunt of the fall on his right shoulder. By some blessing, his fragile leg was spared, though his other knee got twisted in the process. As he rolled over onto his back with a nasty curse, he saw he’d thrown her on the bed. He caught a gorgeous flash of her calf and thigh before she rearranged her skirt and stood up.
He
