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  again. “That pale yellow bra? It highlights your nipples. Makes my mouth water.”

  “Stop it.”

  “Me?” the doctor asked.

  “No. No, sorry,” she muttered.

  “I wanted to take them off,” Shayne whispered.

  This caused another rush of heat to her body, and she began to sweat.

  The doctor noticed and frowned. “Nurse.”

  “Yes, doctor.”

  “Check her temp,” he instructed. “Her color is way off.”

  Oh, God. “No. No, I’m fine,” Dani hurried to say. “Really. Fine.”

  The nurse looked at the doctor and shrugged.

  Dani carefully didn’t look at Shayne again, though she heard his soft laugh, and recognized the way it made her belly quiver.

  “I’ll be happy to check your temp,” Shayne whispered.

  Did he enjoy torturing her? Of course he did. By the time the doctor was finished, her head ached fiercely, but so did the rest of her body.

  Unbelievable. “Can I go home now?” she asked.

  The doctor pursed his lips. “About your blood pressure and stress levels—”

  “I’ll work on that.”

  “Is it your job?”

  She cut a look at Shayne. “Some.”

  “Maybe a short leave of absence to relax?” The doctor scribbled on a pad. “I can write something up for your employer—”

  “No, don’t. I really can’t take a leave right now. I’ll . . . try hard to relax.”

  “I’ll make sure she does.”

  Both the doctor and Dani looked at Shayne. He smiled sweetly, even innocently, but Dani could guess how he intended to see her relax, and most likely it would involve him removing her pale yellow bra.

  And matching panties.

  That wasn’t the question.

  What was the question was whether or not she could weather another round of “just sex” without getting herself more hurt than she was at the moment.

  Chapter 19

  Dani stared out the passenger window, nicely dopey from the meds they’d given her at the hospital. “Hey,” she said to Shayne.

  “Hey yourself.”

  “We’re here.”

  “That we are.” He came around to help her out of the car, then slipped an arm around her when she weaved.

  She wasn’t hurting. The drugs had taken care of that. But she was floating nicely. Her brain couldn’t seem to touch down on anything for long. Which was a shame, because she had a feeling there were things to touch down on.

  “Come on. I’ll tuck you in.”

  “And then leave?”

  “No. We’re having a sleepover.”

  “Oh, fun. With popcorn?”

  Was that his jaw, all bunchy and tight? “Whatever you want,” he promised.

  “Really? ’Cuz I want hot fudge.” She grinned.

  He did not. He scooped her up in his arms, like she was a rag doll.

  “I can walk.”

  “I know.”

  She set her head on his very broad, very nice shoulder, then pressed her face to his neck, loving the way he smelled, which was like heaven. “This really is way better than walking.”

  “We need a list,” he said, carrying her up the stairs.

  “Okay. The hot fudge. Then whipped cream, because I’ve heard—”

  He made a sound that might have been a laugh or a groan. “I meant of people who don’t like you, Dani.”

  “People don’t like me?”

  He got to her front door and propped her against it so he could slide his hands down her body, and she smiled dreamily. “Yes.”

  “Yes?”

  “Yes to the touching.”

  “I’m looking for your keys.”

  “Oh.”

  He found them in her pocket and got them both inside, where he deposited her on her couch. “Stay right there.”

  Since she was dizzy and groggy, that worked for her. Plus, a secret part of her liked the bossiness. She could see him in her kitchen—with the place the size of a postage stamp, she couldn’t help but see him in her kitchen—making her . . . aw. He was making her tea.

  When he came back to the couch, he handed her the hot mug and waved a pad of paper she’d had by her phone, sinking to the coffee table in front of her. “Go,” he said, pencil poised like a cute little secretary.

  Only he wasn’t little, and no one in their right mind would call him cute. Dangerous, yes. Edgy, yes. Sexy, double yes.

  But cute? “Maybe like a cheetah. You know, cute from a distance . . .”

  He blinked. “What?”

  “You’re cute.”

  He blinked again. “List all the people who would benefit from making you appear crazy.”

  “Cute and bossy.” But she sighed and tried to put all the dangerous, edgy, sexy cuteness out of her head. Not an easy feat. “Well, my family has been calling me crazy for a few years now.”

  “Because you walked away from an inheritance.”

  “Edward wasn’t my dad. It didn’t feel right. Plus Tony and Eliza like all their billions of pennies.”

  “Tony and Eliza,” he said, putting them on the list. “Who else?” He nudged her steaming mug up to her lips until she drank.

  Earl Grey. Her favorite. She sipped, watching him over the cloud of steam that rose from her cup.

  Or maybe that was the fog of nice drugs in her system. “You really are cute.”

  “We’ll discuss my cuteness in detail after this.”

  She smiled dreamily. “What else can we do in detail after this? And does it involve the hot fudge?”

  His eyes landed on hers, scorching. “No. It involves some of that relaxing the doctor insisted on. That I insist on.”

  “Oh.” Huh. Yeah, he was pretty damn hot, all bossy and insistent.

  “What about the woman from your work? The one you got the promotion over?” he asked.

  “Reena?”

  “Reena. She wouldn’t . . .”

  He didn’t erase the name, just looked at her with surprising patience. Patience, plus that scorchness factor, and then the whole cute thing, really made him quite . . . “Irresistible.” She smiled. “You’re irresistible.”

  “You’re high as a kite.”

  She grinned.

  He sighed. “Who else?”

  “No one.”

  “I’m sure there’s someone.”

  “You’re sure I’ve annoyed more people?”

  “Yes.”

  She rolled her eyes, and then gasped and reached for her head. “Oh, bad. Very, very bad.”

  Tossing the pad aside, he dropped to his knees at her side. “You okay?”

  “Not so much, no.”

  “I—” He broke off at the scraping sound. “What’s that?”

  It’d come from the other side of the front door. Striding over there, he whipped it open but no one was there. Just a package sitting innocuously all by itself.

  “What is it?” she asked no one, because Shayne burst out of the front door and vanished from her line of sight.

  “Hey!” he yelled, and then he was back in the doorway, holding someone by the scruff of the neck.

  Alan, who shoved free and glared at him. “What the hell is your problem?”

  Shayne bent to pick up the package and lifted a foil edge as if he expected a bomb. “Brownies?”

  “Of course they’re brownies, what did you think they were?” Alan straightened his shirt. “And what are you, an ape?”

  “I’m so sorry,” Dani said to Alan. “Ignore him, he’s—”

  “Crazy?”

  “Concerned about her safety,” Shayne corrected. “Since someone’s been stalking her. You a stalker, Alan?”

  “What? Of course not.” Circling Shayne, giving him a wide birth that would have been comical on any other day, Alan came in. When he caught sight of the blood still matted in Dani’s hair, of the white bandage around her head, he stopped short. “My God.”