Tangling With Ty Read online

  She went very still on the outside while her heart did a slow roll. “That still only makes two, Ty. Your sister and me.”

  “But then there’s her.”

  “Her who?” If he said he had a wife she’d have to kill him.

  “My mother. She didn’t want me. I probably never told you that.”

  Nicole sighed and put her hand on his chest. Her own ached like hell. “No.”

  “I’m a bad seed. Probably should have warned you before now, but I didn’t want to scare you off. The truth is, you name it, and I did it. Stole clothes, stole food— Am I upsetting you?” he asked, opening his eyes to see hers welling up.

  “Ty. Rest,” she begged, wanting to wrap herself around him.

  “Can’t. There’s someone jackhammering in my head. I didn’t even know I had a sister.”

  “I know,” she said in response to his baffled voice, stroking him with her hands, trying to quiet him because she didn’t want to hear this, didn’t want to know about him because, damn it, how was she supposed to keep her distance if she knew about him? “Please, Ty, I want you to—”

  “I don’t want to like her.” After that statement, he was quiet for so long she thought he’d fallen asleep, and she just sat there, soaking him up. She’d imagined he’d had a rough childhood, but she hadn’t imagined it as bad as it must have been. Because she couldn’t help herself, she touched him, ran a hand over his arm, his jaw, wishing she could take his pain as her own.

  “You feeling sorry for me, doc? Cuz if you are, I’m going to tackle you down right here, right now, and kiss us both stupid.”

  “You’re in no position for tackling, much less kissing.”

  “Try me,” he warned, and reached for her, missing by a mile. “Damn.”

  “Ty.” She touched his pale, pale face. “Lie still.”

  “Yeah.” Sweat broke out on his forehead. “Lying still now.”

  “Good, because you’ve got to save your energy for healing. You need to—”

  “Nicole? Darlin’?” He closed his eyes tight. “I’d love to hear the lecture, really. But if you don’t mind, I’m going to puke now.”

  THE NEXT TIME Ty opened his eyes, he was still in a damn hospital bed. Still in a far-too-small hospital gown with no back. Still feeling green and shaky and in too much damn pain to believe that the shot some mean nurse had given him a short time ago had worked.

  He hated hospitals with an unreasonable vengeance, and had ever since he’d been twelve and was beaten within an inch of life. His own fault. He’d broken into a restaurant, only to get caught by the owner as he’d been stuffing his face with food from the fridge. Didn’t matter that he’d been starving, or was a skinny little runt, the guy had gone berserk. The beating had landed Ty in the emergency room, where he’d been treated like little more than the wild animal he was. Once there, he’d barely outwitted the juvenile authorities. All he remembered, when he let himself think about it, was a vicious, snarling, vivid, Techni-color pain and the bitter stench of his own fear.

  Now, being in another hospital brought it all back, quite unpleasantly.

  Nicole’s face floated into view above his own: her wide, expressive gray eyes, the short-cropped hair that so suited her arresting face, and the silver hoops up one ear. Then there was that mouth, with the full lips he so enjoyed nibbling on.

  Another hallucination? He’d had some doozies since he’d been here, all of them involving her tiger-striped bra and purple panties.

  “Hey,” she said, sounding very doctor-like. She wore a white coat and had a stethoscope looped around her neck. How official. “How are you feeling?” she asked. “Still nauseous?”

  In all the other hallucinations, she hadn’t talked, she’d just smiled all sultry-like and had bent over his body, giving him pleasure such as he’d never known. “I like the other outfit better,” he said, closing his eyes.

  “What?” She put her hand on his forehead.

  She thought he was still out of it. “Never mind. Let’s blow this Popsicle stand.”

  “No can do.”

  He stopped in the act of tossing his blankets aside. “Doc?”

  She clutched a clipboard to her chest, looking very in control in her own environment. Bully for her, but he wanted control in his own environment, thank you very much, and lying flat on his back in a scanty gown wasn’t doing it for him.

  “You need to stay overnight for observation, Ty.”

  “I don’t think so.” He sent her a tight smile. “Hand me my clothes.”

  “I mean it.”

  “So do I. Hand me my clothes or get an eyeful, and believe me, the gown hides nothing.” Carefully, trying not to let out the pathetic moan he wanted to, he got himself in a sitting position. His ribs were on fire, so was his ankle, and his head…well, the pain in his head didn’t bear thinking about because if he did, he was going to toss his cookies again. Since the good doctor, sexy as hell in all her disapproval, was glaring at him instead of handing him his things, he put his feet to the floor.

  “Ty, don’t be stupid.”

  “More stupid than falling through your ceiling, you mean?”

  “You’re still drugged. You can’t get yourself dressed much less get yourself home.”

  “I don’t feel drugged.”

  “Really? How many fingers am I holding up?”

  He squinted at her hand. She had no fingers. And now that he took a good look, her head was separated from her body. A shame, really, because it was such a beautiful head. Bossy and stubborn, but beautiful.

  “Ty? How many?”

  “I’m not sure. But I can tell you you’re wearing a tiger-striped bra and purple silky panties.”

  She didn’t look amused.

  Ty returned to his efforts of getting up. He looked at his ankle. Just touching it to the floor hurt enough that he had to suck in a breath. “Sure this thing isn’t broken?”

  “Just badly bruised.”

  Okay, then. Moving on. Next move—getting up right. With that feat in mind, he leaned his weight forward.

  Dr. Sexy crossed her arms and frowned.

  With a grunt of effort, he went for it, and surged to his feet. Or foot, as he held his screaming ankle off the ground. Ribs burning, head feeling like it had blown right off, he thrust out his arms for balance. The back of his gown flapped cool air on his bare ass.

  As he waved wildly, Nicole tossed down her clipboard and leapt toward him. “Damn it.” She shoved her shoulder beneath his arm, taking his weight, which, given how little she was, had to be considerable. “What the hell is wrong with you, you stubborn—”

  “Shh.” He wrapped his arm around her, gasping for breath as everything in his vision faded to a spotted gray. For a cold, clammy, sweaty moment he thought he was going to pass out, but the litany coming from the woman supporting him kept him conscious.

  “Of all the idiotic, moronic…”

  The ringing in his ears drowned out the rest of her monologue as she sat him back down, but he got the gist. He also got the pain. Holy shit, he hadn’t imagined he could feel anything so much, but every muscle in his body had started a mutiny. Unable to hold back a low groan, he rolled to his side and panted for air.

  “I’m going to call the nurse and get you another painkiller.”

  “Don’t. She’s mean.”

  “Baby.”

  He laughed, then nearly cried at the fire in his ribs.

  “I wouldn’t laugh,” she advised, but there was something in her voice now, something… He managed to crane his neck and peer over his shoulder. Yep, that was his ass hanging right out for the world to see. He closed his eyes. “You getting a good view?”

  She tossed his blanket over him. “I’m a doctor. I’ve seen it all.”

  “Yeah, well, this isn’t quite how I imagined you seeing me. Nicole, I’m not staying here overnight.”

  “But—”

  “I’m not,” he said, and looked up at her. “I…can’t.”

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