alert, Dash went up on his elbow to better see her.
She made a soft sound, and her lips parted.
“Margo?”
She shifted, gave another throaty moan....
A knock sounded on her front door.
Damning the interruption and determined not to wake her, Dash moved silently from her bed and out of her bedroom. He quietly closed the door behind him. Whatever Margo was dreaming, she’d have to continue on without his absorbed attention until he got rid of her company.
* * *
A BIG, ROUGH HAND touched her face, her ear, down her throat and to her shoulder. “Wake up, honey.”
No, she didn’t want to leave the dream. But even as she fought it, the sensation of Dash’s mouth on her belly, her thighs, began to recede. She tried to hold on, and whispered, “Please.” She needed a conclusion.
She needed release.
As if from far away, Dash’s voice called to her. “C’mon, baby, open your eyes.”
His voice was so compelling, so husky and warm.... “Dash?”
“I hope all those soft hungry sounds were for me.”
Oh, God. His amusement cut through the last remnants of the dream. She cracked one eye open—and knew the pain meds had worn off. “You turned me down.” Sunlight sliced through her brain and her arm felt like throbbing lead. She bit her bottom lip to stifle any wimpy sounds.
“Shhh, it’s okay.” He helped her to sit up, put a pill to her lips and tilted a water glass until she swallowed.
Discomfort engulfed her.
Dash caressed her shoulder. “How about you proposition me when you’re not hurt?”
“Snooze you lose.” But speaking of hurt... “Was I run over?”
“Close.” He tipped up her chin. “And let’s be clear here. I wasn’t snoozing. I just want to know that it’s you coming on to me, and not the drugs.”
Margo dismissed everything he said when she saw his face. She knew immediately that something was wrong. She straightened, flinched as she readjusted her arm and asked, “What’s the matter? Did I snore?”
“Yes, but I didn’t mind.” He gave her a grim yet sympathetic stare. “Actually, your relatives have come to visit.”
Unfair. She barely had her eyes open. Before facing her folks she needed a little time—like twenty-four hours—to get it together. “You let them in?”
“Should I not have?”
Right. Like Dash could have kept them out. “Of course.” She chewed her lower lip. “Oliver?”
“When he heard the knock, he ducked into the kitchen under the table. I checked on him. He’s okay, just laying low.”
“Thank you.” She didn’t trust her father alone with her cat. Actually, she didn’t entirely trust her mother, either.
Curious, Dash watched her. “You’re welcome.”
She cast about for an idea on what to do next, but couldn’t seem to get beyond the fact of Dash sitting there, shirtless, barefoot, loose drawstring pants hanging low on his lean hips, looking so...delicious. Especially after that stirring dream.
Her splitting head and the thump, thump, thump of her arm, coupled with a visit from her mom and dad should have obliterated any and all carnal urges. Nonetheless, with Dash so close, smelling so incredibly good and watching her intently, she felt the burn of need.
What disturbed her most was that it wasn’t all sexual need.
She’d been asleep for hours, but he had stayed with her, gently caring for her.
Caring for her cat.
Who did that? She should have been outraged because really, she didn’t need anyone.
But some dormant female trait told her that it was nice to have the attention anyway. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had taken care of her.
She didn’t know if anyone ever had.
Before Dash, before this particular moment, she wouldn’t have let anyone.
Dash glanced at her closed bedroom door, then back to her. “Not that I don’t enjoy a little banter with a sexy woman still in bed, but don’t you think we should get a move on? Your father struck me as the type who wouldn’t mind intruding.”
“Perceptive.”
“I am, but he’s also as obvious as the hair on an ape.” As if he hadn’t just insulted her father, Dash reached an arm around her waist. “Let me help you up so you can at least get into your panties.”
The realization that she was bare-bottomed almost leveled her. Lieutenant Margaret Peterson—naked except for a man’s shirt. With her parents only a room away.
“Do you want to put on your yoga pants, too?”
She wanted a suit of armor. Or even her uniform. Right now neither was possible. Overwhelmed with the idea of her father waiting while Dash was in her bedroom with her, suggesting she put on underwear, she merely nodded.
Her world had turned upside down.
“Do you need a quick trip to the bathroom first?”
Now that he mentioned it... “Yes.” Thank God she had a master suite with her own bathroom so she wouldn’t have to go into the hall yet.
With her right hand she held on to Dash as he more or less lifted her from the bed then assisted her into the bathroom.
“The pain pill should kick in soon, and no, they have no idea I was giving it to you.” He propped a shoulder on the door frame and gave her an insolent look. “I have the bottle in my pocket, so unless your dad or brother frisks me, we’re good.”
“My brother, too?”
“Yeah, imagine that.”
Margo didn’t understand the dark note in Dash’s voice, and she was too frustrated to care. “They’re all three here?”
“Yes.” His gaze held her captive. “All three.”
It got her back up, the way he sounded more abrupt by the second. “I can manage if you want to—”
He looked away from her, but said, “I’m waiting.”
“Ooookay.” Knowing her father’s intolerance for tardiness, she didn’t want to waste time. She closed the bathroom door in Dash’s face, and came hobbling back out a mere half minute later.
As if searching for signs of distress,
