didn’t feel the least disappointed in this further example of his resistance to her care. The attraction side of it was irrelevant, of course. Hmph. But what could she do if he wouldn’t accept her help?
‘I’ll get on with dinner, then. I still have a side dish to prepare to go with the curry.’ She turned her back, busied herself in the kitchen and didn’t look around again until she heard water running upstairs. At least she had the healthy food aspect well in hand.
Soph donned protective mitts and drew the casserole out of the oven, removed the lid, then discarded the mitts and gave the contents of the dish a vigorous stir.
She and her employer just had some random chemical reaction going on between them. No doubt it would go away through lack of a receptive audience. On either side!
CHAPTER THREE
‘OH, GOOD, you’re ready for me. It seems I’ve timed it exactly right.’ Soph pushed the door to her employer’s bedroom wider and stepped through the aperture. They’d eaten their dinner. Afterwards Soph had suggested they watch some television together and had received a blank look followed by a resistant one before Grey had said he had business phone calls to make, excused himself and disappeared into the office.
At least he’d seemed to somewhat enjoy chatting with her over the meal. Not that Soph had needed him to enjoy her company. Nor had she been overly conscious of her boss in the short time they’d spent together. She had worked on her silly, earlier inappropriate awareness of Grey and had that all under control now.
‘Let me put this tray down and I’ll help you get settled in the bed.’
The tray held a ceramic incense burner complete with stand, candle holder and tiny teapot on top, matches and a drinking mug full of steaming liquid. In a trice she placed the tray on to the dresser and turned to face her boss.
Nurse Sophia to the rescue.
Her employer hovered, features frozen, near his bed. He wore green silk pyjama trousers and, well, nothing else actually, which meant Soph had a rather amazing view of his broad shoulders, his chest, the smattering of hair that tapered towards his navel…
‘Ah, it’s warm in here, isn’t it?’ Soph snapped her gaze upward, away from silk, away from his chest, though meeting his gaze wasn’t particularly better. Did he have to look so sensual to go along with his air of fierce affront?
‘I can’t say I’d noticed any particular warmth,’ he snarled, but he also examined her from her hair—piled in a loose, messy knot on top of her head—to her face, her mouth and finally over her body and back up again. His muscles tensed.
Soph wanted to touch him.
No. Soph did not want to touch him.
‘Um, well, you probably put out a lot of body heat.’ She waved vaguely towards him. ‘Hence no need for a shirt to wear to bed.’
A shirt she truly had expected to see on him when she barged in to settle him down for the night. Nurse Sophia, indeed. If she got much hotter from looking at him, she would become a medical emergency.
Temperature far too hot, Doctor. What should we do?
‘Why are you here?’ Grey’s eyes flared for just a moment before he snapped his gaze away from her. When he turned back, the irritation had returned in full force. His eyebrows drew down and a muscle twitched at the base of his jaw. ‘I told you when I stepped out of the office that I planned to retire for the night.’
‘Yes, so I came to help.’ She’d been finished with the telly anyway. Soph tried not to look back at his chest, but it was so…there. And he had looked at her with interest before he’d locked the reaction down.
In the same way Soph needed to reject it. That was the thing. She couldn’t afford to desire her boss, and he clearly didn’t want to desire her.
‘I’m here to work,’ she blurted. ‘I mean, I’m here to work in your room, to put you to bed. I took a shower, gave you time to do whatever it is you might have needed to do, and then came to help you get settled. That’s why I’m in my nightwear. It seemed silly to dress again.’
It didn’t seem silly now, but it was too late. She reached for the incense burner and matches, clutching them tightly because he just might see her hands shaking if she didn’t.
He sent an incredulous stare her way. ‘You came to help me get settled, in my room, without even knocking first.’ He waved his hand towards her. ‘Wearing…a hibiscus caftan and bare feet and who knows what underneath? Did it occur to you I might be buck naked in here?’
Grey Barlow.
Naked.
In this bedroom with the great big bed.
I am not seeing those things in my head…
Anyway, the caftan covered a perfectly respectable tank top and pyjama bottoms. Lots of layers really, even if Soph felt as though he’d just swept his hands along the length of her bare skin.
‘The door was partly open. I don’t think you’d have left it that way if you were…if you weren’t… um…adequately attired.’
This said, she stepped forward and whipped the bedcovers out of the way with her free hand. ‘In you get. You’ll be so pleased with what I’ve brought for you.’
There. They could get back to business now.
Except he didn’t move.
Soph plumped his pillows and patted the mattress. ‘I’ll take the ankle brace off once you’re settled.’ Perhaps he would feel more comfortable if she busied herself while he got in? She turned aside, set the burner down on his bedside table, lit the candle and positioned the unit just so.
Her employer clamped a wad of the covers into his fist and climbed into the bed, where he promptly propped himself against the headboard. ‘You can remove the brace and then remove yourself. I don’t need a nanny.’
He yanked the covers across as much of him as he could while still leaving his ankle exposed. ‘What is that thing, anyway? A miniature fondue set or something?’
‘It’s an incense burner. I’ve put some lovely forest-scented oil in the water. You’ll find it relaxing.’ As she spoke, she perched on the bed beside him, batted his hands away from where he was tugging at the laces on his brace and finished the job for him in a far gentler manner. ‘And I’m not “nannying” you, I’m doing my job.’
Only her job and nothing more, even if she had slipped just a little when she’d first stepped into the room.
‘The incense will help you sleep, and so will this.’ Soph went to the tray again and returned with the steaming cup in her hands. She sat and held it out to him.
His fingers wrapped around the cup, brushing hers.
‘It’s chamomile tea.’ Hopefully, he would doze off and stay asleep until morning. Hopefully, he wouldn’t realise that just a touch from him put a flame to all her nerve endings and hung doubt above her determination to ignore her interest in him. ‘If you’re in pain, though, you must tell
