When Hearts Collide - By James, Kendra Page 0,48

body spread-eagled, the sheet wrapped around his waist, his chest exposed. He reminded her of a Greek god.

How often had her gaze followed the triangle of dark, wavy hair to where it disappeared under the edge of the crisp white sheet, skimming over the material, then focusing again on the length of his long muscular legs. It wasn’t the cast, or the circulation of his toes beyond the cast, that drew her attention. Instead, she imagined those long limbs entwined with hers. Prickles of heat spread up her arms, leaving a crimson trail behind.

She gave her head a shake. This had to stop. Talk about teenagers and their raging hormones. She needed a cold shower, but she’d just gotten out of one fifteen minutes before.

Resting after a vigorous physiotherapy session, Pearce positioned the wheelchair in front of the desk so he could do paperwork yet watch the garden.

Molly and Gracie were playing fetch with Trooper. A smile came to his lips. She was so good with the child. With Molly’s nurturing, Gracie had come out of her shell and blossomed. She no longer clung to him or Molly, her nightmares were less frequent, and she was bubbly and happy most of the time. Her previously pale cheeks now had a healthy blush, and she was more confident, more exuberant. It warmed his heart to hear her laughter echoing through their house.

Pearce leaned back on the chair’s leather headrest and watched Molly and Gracie run through the sprinkler. Trooper trotted behind them, enjoying the water as much as the humans. With the tight wet curls framing her face, Molly looked like an angel.

The temperature had soared into the eighties, and she wore a pair shorts and a tank top. Pierce had trouble keeping his eyes off the legs that seemed to go on forever. From her time in the sun, they were tanned to a golden brown. The cotton shorts hugged her hips, and Pierce was drawn to the rounded shape the material concealed.

He knew he should look away, but the picture was so tantalizing, especially when she bent to fix Gracie’s shoes. His fingers tingled at the thought of tracing the curve of those tanned legs, of caressing those shapely calves, of slowly extending upward along the arch of her buttocks.

When the vee of her tank top exposed mounds of flesh, he ached to let his fingers creep up to the tempting swell of her breasts. Heat that had nothing to do with the outside temperature surged through him, engorging him.

At that moment, Molly glanced toward the house, blushing as if she knew he’d been watching her. She quickly turned her attention back to Gracie.

Pearce forced his mind back to his work. He had to stop thinking about her. It was pleasant, the sensations she aroused, but it was leading nowhere. He didn’t want anyone complicating his life, and this woman would be gone as soon as he was better.

He pulled a file out of the drawer and spread the papers across the desk. He had read the report three times. Maybe Molly was right. Maybe it was too soon to get back to work. He was definitely having trouble concentrating, but how much of that was from the distraction she provided?

Pearce heard the door slide open and looked up. Molly stood there, her scent wafting into the room ahead of her. The sun streaming through the casement window created a gleaming crown on the waves of her crimson hair. Removing his glasses, he leaned back in the chair, and smiled up at her. At his direct gaze, he saw her quick indrawn breath and noticed the blush kiss her cheeks.

Approaching the desk, Molly watched him for a second before speaking. “You should be resting. You’re not ready to get back to work.”

“I have work to deal with.” He smiled slowly. “There are things that can’t wait.”

“You can’t keep pushing yourself. You have to give your body time to recover.”

“I can’t stand this. I have things I need to do.” Pearce shook his head.

Molly’s voice was soothing. “If you push yourself and get overtired, you may have a relapse.”

He swore under his breath. “I hate this. I’m not used to being sick.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Molly laid her hand on his arm. He covered hers with his own and felt the heat radiating from her body.

“No.” He shook his head and smiled apologetically. “No, it’s legal documents for a client.”

“Can’t your partner handle it?”