Maid for Montero - By Kim Lawrence Page 0,50
not his job to make her better, so why the hell had he taken it on himself to do so?
She gave a twisted smile. ‘Thanks.’ He must be right otherwise the comment would not have made her feel like crying.
‘If you drag yourself out of bed unnecessarily you will only delay your recovery.’
In a perfect world another twenty-four hours would have been nice. ‘So now you’re a doctor.’
‘You are a very bad patient.’
‘I need to—’
‘Has it not occurred to you that Chloe and her family will not thank you for infecting them with your flu bug?’
Zoe’s face fell. ‘I hadn’t thought of that.’
Hands on her shoulders, he turned her around. ‘So go back to bed, and for once in your life, woman, let someone else be in charge.’ He broke off at the sound of a car horn. ‘That is my car.’
He was being summoned by a pair of kids, and he was responding!
Zoe tried to remember the last time she had felt in charge and gave a small bitter laugh. ‘This from the world’s biggest control freak!’ she muttered as the door closed.
By the time she reached her bed Zoe was too tired to undress. She fell on top of it fully dressed and fell into a deep sleep.
When she woke, the afternoon sun was shining through the window and she wasn’t alone. She raised herself up on one elbow and gazed down at the man lying beside her. He too was fully dressed and sound asleep.
Or maybe not.
Isandro opened his heavy-lidded eyes and stretched a hand above his head; he had not slept the previous night but fortunately he survived well on catnaps.
He looked so gorgeous that it hurt; the pain was physical.
She was trailing her fingers lovingly down his cheek when it hit her. ‘Chloe!’ she yelped, glancing with horror at the time on the digital display of her alarm. ‘I thought you were—’
She bit her lip—an assumption she should not have made. He had taken the twins to school because that had been pretty much a fait accompli, but the last thing Isandro wanted was involvement in her domestic life. He just wanted her in bed…for how long?
She pushed away this depressing thought.
‘Relax, I have sent a car for them.’ He gave a yawn. He was sure that nursing did not involve falling asleep beside your patient, but the last twenty-four hours had taught Isandro that he was not a natural nurse and when Zoe had thrashed around restlessly and muttered his name in her sleep he had found himself unable not to respond. His physical closeness had seemed to soothe her.
‘Their flight arrived on time and they are on their way home.’
‘Thank you…I’m really sorry about being a nuisance…’
He reached and placed a hand behind her neck, his fingertips sending little flickers of electricity through her body as they pushed into her hairline.
‘You are always a nuisance.’ She turned his ordered life into total chaos and yet still he kept coming back for more…?
Zoe struggled to read his expression. ‘The twins can be very—’
‘I never do anything I do not want to do, querida.’
‘You can’t want to run the twins around and—’
He dragged her face down to his until their noses were touching. ‘Right now I want—’
‘Do you always get what you want?’ she whispered against his warm lips…God, but he smelt incredible.
‘I have that reputation.’
‘What was that for?’ she asked huskily when the long, languid kiss ended.
‘Chloe sent her love.’
‘Not like that, she didn’t.’
His throaty laugh made her grin.
‘You shouldn’t be kissing me. I’m probably infectious.’
He stroked her cheek. ‘I have an excellent immune system. I never get ill.’
You never get in love. She pushed the thought away. Why spoil what she had by wishing for something she never could have? It was hard sometimes.
‘Thanks for this morning.’
He shrugged and levered himself into a sitting position before dragging both hands through his sexily ruffled dark hair.
‘You should go. The twins will be home soon.’ She swung her legs over the side of the bed, not seeing the flicker of annoyance that moved across his taut lean features. ‘I really am feeling better now. I needed that sleep.’
After scanning her face, he nodded and got up from the bed. ‘I have arranged for Rowena to pick up the twins after their field trip,’ he said, rising with fluid grace to his feet. ‘And there is something that Mrs Whittaker called a casserole in the fridge. Apparently all you have to do is heat it up.’
‘That’s