Finally, she found what she was looking for. Pulling out a pad of paper, she began to take notes.
The alarm rang way too early.
Sam slapped the top of the clock, shutting off the persistent ringing. Squinting one eye open, she peeked at the glowing red numbers.
Two a.m.? What the hell was wrong with her alarm?
Then, with a rush, it all came back to her. The rodeo, the accident…the man in her bed.
Of course. Concussion watch, night two. She’d set the alarm so she could check on Cody.
At least she only had to check on him a couple of times tonight. If he’d had to go back to the hospital there would have been someone coming by his room every hour on the hour for different tests and checks.
Cold comfort, of course, when someone is trying to sleep and someone else is preventing that from happening.
Sighing, she pushed the door to the master bedroom open and stepped inside. Tiptoeing across the room, Sam switched on the bedside lamp to cast muted light on the bed.
The bed. Cody was finally asleep, one leg uncovered by the tangle of covers. Sam swallowed at the sight of that tanned, muscled thigh.
Thirteen years ago, he’d been long and lean, at least as far as she’d been able to tell despite those ubiquitous Wranglers. The years had added definition and muscle to his frame, filling out in a way that made her mouth go dry.
And now here he was, almost naked, in her bed.
Damn, life was not fair.
She reached out and touched his uninjured shoulder. “Cody,” she whispered. “Time for your concussion check.”
In response, he shifted away from her, his breath still even and steady. That was a good sign, at least. Lifting up an eyelid, she clicked on her penlight and studied his pupil carefully.
“That’s a hell of a way to wake a guy,” he mumbled.
She jumped back, startled. “I thought you were still asleep.”
“Hard to sleep while someone’s poking and prodding at you.” His voice was slow and slurred, his eyes half-mast. “And before you ask, I know the year, the president, and the color of your underwear.”
“My underwear?” Sam could feel the blush hitting her cheeks immediately. “What are you talking about?”
Cody gestured with his head. “The light,” he said in response.
Sam looked down. The bedside lamp was shining on her white nightgown, turning it almost transparent. Beneath it, her peach-and-blue lace hiphugger panties were clearly visible. “Oh my God.”
Cody closed his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips. “Looks good, Sammie.”
“I can’t believe…” She grabbed the throw off the foot of the bed and wrapped it around her waist. “How humiliating.”
“Nah.” His eyes were still closed. “Now, if they were granny panties with holes in them, I could see humiliating. But that little thang? Beneath the virginal white nightie you wear? Pretty damn sexy, if you ask me.”
“Well, I didn’t.” She held the throw tightly. “Ask you, that is.”
“I know.” He squinted one eye open and looked at the blanket covering her. “I was afraid of that.”
“Afraid of what?”
“You’d cover up. I should have kept my mouth shut. Maybe I do have a concussion, to make a fool mistake like that. I’ll probably never see those beauties again.”
“Damn right you won’t.” Although her body seemed to have a differing opinion on that, with the way her heart rate doubled at the thought of situations where Cody might see her panties again.
Suddenly a thought occurred. If he could see her panties, could he see other parts of her anatomy as well?
Horrified, she glanced down at her chest. Her nipples stood out in stark relief against the soft cotton of her nightgown. And to think she’d bought the sleepwear because it looked so sweet and innocent!
A sharp intake of breath caught her attention again. She looked up to see Cody staring at her chest as well, heat clearly visible in his eyes. Whirling around, she pulled the blanket up so it was snugged tight under her armpits. “Do you mind?” she snapped.
“As a matter of fact, I do,” he ground out.
She turned back to look at him.
“I mind that you’re so uncomfortable around me you feel the need to cover yourself. I mind that I won’t get to see those sexy panties anytime soon. Most of all, I mind that I’m lying here in this bed, so messed up with injuries that I can’t do anything about the fact that you’re so damn hot it’s about killing me.”
Sam realized that her mouth had dropped open and she was gaping at him like a fish in a bucket. She shut it with a snap.
He thought she was hot?
“Cody,” she started, but he closed his eyes again.
“Forget it,” he said. “I should never have said anything. That bull clearly knocked all my good sense clean out of my head. The meds probably aren’t helping, either.”
“Cody, I’m just here to check on your injuries.” She hitched the wrap a little higher and tucked one end under, creating a makeshift toga. “I wasn’t trying to—”
“I know.” He squinted up at her. “Too bad.”
Sam shook her head. “Cody, you’re incorrigible.”
“I know.” He waved a hand weakly at her. “Go ahead, darlin’. Go to town.”
If only. Sam took a step forward and placed a hand on his forehead. “No fever.”
“Really?” He smiled wryly. “I would have sworn my temperature was going through the roof.”
Sam narrowed her eyes. “It’s two in the morning, Cody. I’m tired and cranky and not in the mood. So save the cheesy innuendo for a better occasion, buddy.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He subsided on the pillow, allowing her to check his bandages and injuries with no further commentary.
She worked quickly and efficiently, refusing to let herself think about Cody’s comments.
Much.
And she’d told him she wasn’t in the mood? Liar.
The check-up finally finished, she pulled the covers back up and reached to turn off the light. Cody stopped her with a hand on her arm.
Startled, she looked down at him. “Did you need something?”
“Just this,” he said, reached up with his uninjured arm and threaded his fingers through her sleep-tousled hair. Then, tugging gently, he urged her head down toward his.
Part of her insisted she put a stop to it, right now. He was injured, on medication, and in her care. It would be unprofessional.
But a bigger part, the part that had been crushing on Cody since she was barely in her teens, told her professional side to shut the hell up and let her enjoy the moment. God knew if it would ever happen again.
Closer, closer, until her eyes drifted shut and she pressed her lips to his.
He whispered a kiss across her mouth with infinite delicacy, pulling back a bit before touching his lips to hers again. His mouth was an intoxicating combination of soft and firm, and she sighed against his lips. She could feel his mouth curve into a little smile.
He intensified the kiss then, his lips molding to hers, his thumb tracing the curve of her neck. Her pulse beat crazily beneath his touch, and she sat down on the edge of the bed, no longer certain her legs would hold her up.
Then he stroked his tongue into her mouth, sending a rush of heat through her that would not be denied. Surrendering to the pull of desire, she met him stroke for stroke, groaning against his mouth as their tongues tangled and their breath mingled. His hand slid lower, cupping her breast, and she gasped as he circled her nipple with his thumb. This was what she’d wanted, what she’d desired for so long…
Growling in frustration, he pulled away, his hand dropping against the comforter as he sank back into the pillows. “You’d better go.” His voice was raspy, his expression fierce.
Oh, God. What had she done? With a little gasp, she stood and staggered a few steps back from the bed.
“I’ll, uh, see you in a few hours,” she stammered, and backed out of the room. Even after she’d turned the corner into the hallway, she could barely restrain herself from touching her mouth.
She’d studied physiology and human sexuality. Even so, she could have sworn her lips were actually on fire.
How could such a delicate touch cause such a strong reaction?
Cody’s voice carried into the hall. “Maybe you’d better wear your robe next time.”
Hell, yeah. She’d wear a snowsuit if she had to. Anything to protect her from the fire burning between them.
Because if she wasn’t careful, she was the one who was going to get burned.
Okay, that was stupid.
Beyond stupid.
She’d opened up her home to him, someone she hadn’t seen in years, and he’d repaid her how? By kissing her for no apparent reason.
And okay, yeah, she’d gotten into it, too, if her reaction had been anything to go by. She certainly hadn’t been an unwilling participant. But that didn’t excuse his behavior.
Cody glanced over at the bedside table, where the lamp still cast a gentle glow. He’d blame it on the meds, but considering he’d taken them hours ago, it would be a cop-out.
The concussion would be just another excuse, as well.
Damn. He needed a distraction, now, or he’d never get back to sleep. He shifted a little, letting the aches and pains of his injuries swamp the sexual desire causing him even more discomfort at the moment.
She’d be back before morning for another check. How was he going to keep from touching her again?
Swearing under his breath, Cody reached over to the bedside table and picked up one of his pills. Though part of him still hated the thought that he’d need chemical help to heal, there was no denying that the previous dose had made a huge difference.
He swallowed it, along with a long drink of water. Then he switched off the light and sank back against the pillows. Maybe, by the time the meds wore off, he’d be in a better frame of mind to deal with everything.
***
Sam had always considered herself a morning person.
It was clear that she wouldn’t be able to claim that title today. Rubbing her sleep-blurred eyes, she shuffled out into the hallway and headed to the kitchen, feeling like she’d been run over by a truck the night before. Even discounting the multiple concussion checks that had her up and out of bed every couple of hours, she’d slept horribly the past two nights.
Tossing and turning, getting tangled in her sheets as well as her thoughts, she’d spent the night completely overwhelmed by the turn of events since Friday afternoon.
And Cody’s kiss was a big part of that.
Try as she might, she couldn’t wrap her head around the situation. It hadn’t helped that during the rest of the night’s concussion checks, she’d barely been able to wake Cody, a combination of exhaustion and the medication keeping him on the edge of consciousness. It had made it possible for her to maintain a veneer of professionalism, but it hadn’t given her an opportunity to figure out what the hell that kiss had meant.
Not that it had to mean anything. Sometimes a kiss was just a kiss.
But not for her. Not this kiss, not this man.
What, was she just planning to hand over her heart on a serving tray and say, “Have at it, big boy?”
And how was she going to get through the next couple of days without giving in to the desire that apparently would never die?
She pressed a hand to her forehead. God, she needed a cup of coffee.
Cody took a deep breath, the scent of brewing coffee tantalizing his senses.
Then an agonizing pain in his ribs took over and he forgot all about his caffeine addiction.
Groaning, he cupped a hand over his side and took a couple shallow breaths. Okay, better. This was going to take some getting used to, though.
As was the idea of being in Sam’s care.
At least this morning he’d woken up knowing where he was, despite the fuzziness of the past twelve or so hours. He had a vague recollection of giving in on the medication argument, which was probably why he had a hard time remembering much of anything.
What weren’t foggy, though, were the erotic dreams he’d apparently been having about Sam all night.
Damn. He shifted uncomfortably as his cock swelled. At least that part of his anatomy wasn’t impacted by the accident.
“Good morning.” Sam stood in the doorway, covered head to toe in a thick terry bathrobe. There was a steaming mug in each hand. “I thought you might like some coffee.”
“Thanks.” He shifted under the covers, trying to hide the evidence of his erection. “I’d love some.”
She crossed the room and handed him the mug, careful not to touch him. Then she took a step back for good measure. God, he wanted her even now. But it was clear that as far as she was concerned, they would be keeping everything on a strictly professional level.
And that was more of a pain than all his injuries combined.
Well, now. Wasn’t this awkward?
Sam put her coffee down on the nightstand and picked up the blood pressure cuff. Maybe she could get back a tiny measure of her professionalism by treating Cody like the patient he was. “How are you feeling today?”
He looked at her and raised one eyebrow. “Guess.”
“Yeah, stupid question.” She laughed self-consciously. “Okay, mister, you know the drill.”
Dutifully, he held out his arm, then settled back against the pillows as she checked his pupils. The comfort of long-practiced routine helped distract her from the wholly inappropriate thoughts rattling around in her brain.
“You’re looking better,” she said, giving his shoulder a cursory check. Then she stuck a thermometer in his mouth. At least his temperature was closer to normal this morning. Hers, on the other hand, was skyrocketing.
Steeling herself, she started to lift the blanket, her gaze latching onto his when he grabbed the blanket and held on tight. “Just checking your leg,” she reminded him. What was with him today?
“Right,” he muttered, stretching his leg out from under the covers while keeping the blanket firmly in place. “Here you go.”
Giving a mental shrug, Sam checked over his leg and turned to the nightstand. By the time she turned back, he was covered again. She made a mental note to turn up the thermostat once she left the room. “Time for your next dose,” she said.
“Great,” he said with a grimace. “My favorite.”