When Hearts Collide - By James, Kendra Page 0,35

and down her spine, and her heart was doing a funny little pitter-patter. She had a sudden urge for his hand to touch other parts of her body, an urge she needed to suppress. He was her patient. This shouldn’t be happening. Molly wanted to pull away, but another part of her wanted to lean close and let her lips taste the sweet wine of his.

There was a commotion at the door, and Gracie raced into the room. She made straight for her father. “Daddy, Daddy, come and watch. Trooper is playing ball with me.”

Pearce laughed. “Okay. Let’s go see what this mutt of yours is doing.”

Gracie pouted. “He’s not a mutt, he’s Trooper.”

Pearce ruffled her blond hair. “Let’s go see Trooper.” He turned to Molly and smiled invitingly. “You’d better come, too. It’s your dog.”

Molly smiled at the thought. Her dog. She had never in her life been able to call a dog hers. It had always been the foster family’s dog, or a neighbor’s dog, never hers. Was Trooper hers? The dog was better now, his wound healing, and he’d gained weight. She’d called the local humane societies and veterinarians, but no one had reported a missing dog matching Trooper’s description.

“Hop up here.” Pearce patted his lap and winked at his daughter. “Maybe, if we ask nicely, Molly will give us a push.”

Gracie clapped her hands. “Please, Molly. Please, push us.”

Molly bowed, and after a Musketeer wave, she grabbed the rubber grips of the wheelchair. “Your wish is my command.”

Pearce raised an eyebrow. “All my wishes, Molly?”

The mischievous gleam in his eyes sent more flames up her arms, flowing up to her cheeks. Molly hoped they weren’t as crimson as the blouse she wore. Tightening her grip on the wheelchair’s handles, Molly jerked the chair into motion. Pearce’s low chuckle kept the heat blazing.

Every time Pearce closed his eyes, he saw her face. The riot of red curls, the rosy cheeks, and those long sooty eyelashes. Were they natural? He would have expected her to have fine red lashes, not the thick black ones that framed her green eyes.

When she wore her hair pinned back, the severe, simple style accented the already high cheekbones, highlighting her beauty rather than detracting from it. He thought of the feel of the silky strands and the overwhelming urge he had to reach out and pull out the pins holding her hair so tightly in place. His fingers tingled as he imagined it tumbling like autumn leaves, floating around her shoulders, creating a crimson headdress.

Why did this woman have such an effect on him? Her beautiful face seemed to be imprinted on his consciousness. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw a vision of her bending over him, her smile soft, sweet. He could feel the hot breath of her lips against his ear and hear the whisper of soothing words.

She’d enchanted him with a witch’s love spell. Molly, his very own angel, and she’d cast a spell on him. His mind drifted. An image came out of the blackness, a white-robed priestess with a wreath of rosemary, lavender, and violets entwined in her red tresses.

She waved a slender hand and stroked his cheek with an alabaster feather. The vision disappeared into the darkness. Pearce stretched out his hand, the action rousing him from his dreams. The bed felt lumpy, and he couldn’t get comfortable. Every movement sent shooting pains down his legs. He moaned.

“Pearce, are you okay?”

Opening his eyes, a vision of his angel manifested in front of him. Her red hair hung in soft curls around a porcelain petal skin. Her eyes shimmered like smoky topaz gemstones.

When had she come in?

Pearce stared at her, at the generous curve of her mouth, at the soft hazel eyes, at the high sculptured cheekbones. He stared, unable to draw his gaze away. He felt lost in the depths of her luminous eyes.

She bent across him to adjust the flow of the antibiotic. Her hair fell in a crimson curtain over her profile. He wanted to touch the silky strands, draw them back so he could feel their softness. She was so close the scent of her lavender soap sent his hormones soaring. Unbidden, his hand reached out to stroke the red waves caressing her bare shoulders.

He hadn’t thought about kissing her. He was so tired all he could think about was drifting back to sleep. Yet, here she was, so close, so tantalizing, so tempting. One minute he was gazing