“It’s my way of saying you might get another chance.” Her lips twitched as she tried to suppress a smile. “Speaking of chances, is that your third or fourth?” she asked.
He opened his mouth to reply and she snapped his jaw shut with her hand. “Quit while you still have a partner, partner.”
Her dark-eyed gaze settled on his, unnerving him.
“Go get some sleep,” she said in a husky voice.
He let his finger trail over her moist lower lip before turning and doing as she suggested. He didn’t trust himself not to touch further. At this point, a solitary nap was the safest place for him to be.
He awoke with a scratchy throat and a pounding headache. His skin hurt to the touch. He groaned, which only caused the first two symptoms to increase in severity. A hangover, which he hadn’t had since his college days, would feel better than this.
Chelsie knocked.
“Come on in.” He propped himself up higher in bed.
“You must have been exhausted, because you slept through lunch and dinner. I figured I’d wake you so you could at least have something to eat before I left.”
“How’s Alix?” he asked.
“What’s wrong? You sound like a frog.” She walked to the side of the bed and snapped on a table lamp, causing him to squint until his eyes adjusted to the light. “She’s fine. She woke up, played all afternoon, watched a video or two, and went back in for the night.”
He ran his fingers through his hair. “And I slept through all that?”
She nodded. “You look awful.”
“Thank you. I can’t remember the last time a woman’s compliment turned my head like that.”
“Be serious. Your eyes are glassy, your face is flushed. How do you feel?”
“As lousy as I apparently look.”
“Where do you keep the aspirin around here?”
Grateful that she seemed to be taking charge, he gave in to his aching muscles and leaned back onto the pillows. “Bathroom medicine cabinet. Through that door,” he said, and pointed to the master bath.
“Someone should have told me that baby-sitter and nursemaid would be part of the partnership agreement. I would have upped my percentage.” He was about to dispute that, then realized he couldn’t. Apologizing seemed like the next best alternative. But she softened her words with a genuine smile before heading in the direction he’d indicated.
“You probably caught some form of what Alix had. Open up,” she said, upon exiting the bathroom.
He complied and she cut off any answer by sticking a thermometer in his mouth. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”
She left as briskly as she’d come, giving him only a brief moment to view her from behind. Her jeans fit like a coating of paint and those legs seemed to grow in length each time he looked. If he felt feverish before, he’d hate to view the thermometer now. He closed his eyes and settled in to wait.
“Open,” she said a few minutes later.
“You sure you weren’t a drill sergeant in another life?”
“Cute.” She paused to read the thermometer and frowned. “You’ve got a fever, Griff.” She handed him a glass of orange juice from the nightstand. “You stay put.”
“And who takes care of Alix?”
“As if you didn’t already know. It’s Saturday night, so neither one of us has any pressing work engagements tomorrow. Give yourself twenty-four hours for the fever to break. By then, you’ll be on your feet and Mrs. Baxter will be back first thing Monday morning.”
“She’s out till the following weekend.”
Chelsie shook her head. “She called to check in. I told her what had happened and she’ll be back.”
“Good.”
“But for the next twenty-four hours, you’re stuck with me.”
It was what he’d wanted all along, but her physical presence wasn’t all he needed, and her no-nonsense attitude irritated the hell out of him. Never mind that he’d caused her to withdraw. He desired the woman who melted in his arms, not this wind-up nurse doll.
She grabbed the empty glass from his hands and her gaze raked him over from top to bottom.
“You’re still in last night’s clothes. Change and I’ll make you something light for dinner.” She turned towards the door. “I can last a measly twenty-four hours,” she murmured.
He knew she hadn’t intended for him to hear.
“Chelsie?”
She glanced over her shoulder. He smiled as he devoured her with his eyes. “You’re about to find out how long twenty-four hours can be.”
* * *
Chelsie knew Griff’s prediction of a long twenty-four hours had been said with the express intent of making her squirm. Despite his illness, the predatory look in his eyes accomplished his goal. However, he hadn’t counted on his fever rising and his comfort level declining, making him ill equipped to do more than groan, complain, and drive her crazy. Amazingly, Alix slept on. After dinner, Griff, too, had fallen asleep.
By the time Chelsie had unpacked most of her office, cleaned up the kitchen, and finished the laundry she’d found piled in a heap on the floor, the clock read nearly midnight. After looking in on Alix, she decided to check Griff once more before collapsing on the couch in the den. They hadn’t discussed sleeping arrangements, and Chelsie didn’t feel right invading Mrs. Baxter’s privacy by borrowing her bed.
With only the hall light to guide her, she tiptoed into Griff’s bedroom. She stood at the foot of his bed and glanced down at his sleeping form. His bare chest rose and fell in steady intervals. She smiled, appreciating the changes wrought by sleep. With the tension gone, a carefree expression softened the lines in his face and relaxed his features. Even the razor stubble added a roguish charm.
A far cry from the withdrawn man she dealt with on a daily basis, this man represented pure danger. She wanted him as much as she needed to resist his magnetic pull. Resisting would be easy only as long as he slept on.
Turning her attention to herself, she realized she needed rest. Though she felt like a thief, she rummaged through his bureau drawers. She doubted Griff would appreciate being awakened while she asked if she could borrow a T-shirt.
She ducked into his bathroom and changed into the first shirt she’d found. After shutting the light, she padded through his bedroom. She heard his even breathing and knew he still slept. She couldn’t resist one more look before she turned in for the night. Careful not to wake him, she sat on the edge of his mattress. In silence, she watched him sleep.
She understood his mercurial moods, understood his confusion and reluctance to turn their already precarious relationship into something deeper. His mother had deserted him in life, his brother in death. He acted like a man who wanted nothing to do with women and emotional commitment. One day his views would change. With the right woman, Griff would want to settle down and provide Alix with a full-time mother and little brothers or sisters.
When the time came, could Chelsie gracefully step aside? Could she maintain their partnership and watch him with another woman? Watch someone else take over the role she currently filled in Alix’s life?
She’d always be the little girl’s aunt, but Chelsie knew now that wouldn’t be enough. A lump formed in her throat and she blinked, causing a tear to drip down her face. How had she let herself become so attached to either one of them?
Despite both of their reservations, they found themselves on the verge of a legal partnership and an emotional precipice. Who would catch her when she fell this time?
She sighed and reached over, brushing a dark lock of hair off his forehead. Nighttime always made her melancholy, and she chided herself for succumbing. Her own feelings didn’t matter. For both Griff and Alix, Chelsie would do whatever was necessary, even at the expense of her own happiness. Right now, however, she needed sleep.
She braced her hand on the bed and started to rise. His hand on her wrist startled her, preventing her from leaving.
Chelsie sat back down
, aware that she now shared a bed with an extremely sexy, awake man. “How are you feeling?” she asked.
“Better.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t lie.”
“Lousy.”
“I’ll get you more aspirin before I turn in.”
“Where?” His question sounded more like a croak.
“On the den couch.”
“Chelsie...”
“Be quiet, you’ll hurt your throat. And don’t make a big deal about it. I’ve slept on my own office couch plenty of times.” She rose, eager to escape her desires. “I’ll be right back.”
She returned and watched to make sure he swallowed the tablets. Then he merely stared. Uncomfortable, Chelsie knew she ought to leave before she succumbed. “If you need anything, I’ll be down the hall.”
“Would you stay?”
The blunt question caught Chelsie by surprise.
“It’s been a rough day or so with Alix,” Griff explained. “On top of that, with Jared’s birthday... I need the company.”
Somehow, Chelsie knew company was all he had in mind—a friend for the dark times. Her heart went out to him. She wasn’t surprised. Over the course of the last two days, she’d suspected the worst. Falling in love wasn’t supposed to be part of her carefully planned future. And now that she had? For Griff’s sake more than her own, she’d have to ignore the feelings.
“Please.”
She forced a grin. “Okay. I guess sharing your bed won’t be such a big sacrifice.”
“Thanks a lot.”
He moved over and she lay down next to him. His scent seduced her. The warmth of his body tantalized her senses much the way his shirt caressed her body. Both left her yearning for more. Darkness enveloped her and she blinked in an effort to orient herself to her surroundings. With Griff lying so close, she could barely think.
“Nice shirt,” he said.
She groaned, causing him to chuckle.
“How come there are no men in your life?”
Her breathing stopped and she forced air into her lungs. “I suppose you think lying here under the cover of darkness entitles you to ask personal questions.”
“No,” he said, pausing as he spoke. “I think our partnership, our friendship, and maybe something more gives me the privilege of asking those questions.”
She was well and truly caught. “Well, put like that, how can I refuse?”
His deep laughter warmed her. “That’s the point. You can’t.”
SEVEN
Griff forced himself to wait for the tale of Chelsie’s past and, hopefully, for something more. Her soft curves touched him lightly but enough to tease and entice.
“I was married once.” The sound of her voice worked to arouse his curiosity more than anything else.
“And?”
He felt the rise and fall of her shoulders in a shrug. “It was short and more bitter than sweet. Happy now?”
Not yet. Griff edged closer, but to his chagrin, Chelsie lay on top of the covers, while he lay beneath. “Get up.”
“And they say women are fickle,” she muttered. She swung her legs off the bed and stood.
His eyes had adjusted to the darkness, enabling him to take in her slender form beneath his large white T-shirt. The material draped her breasts, the hem reached mid thigh, and her long legs were bare. His gut clenched with desire, yet right now, all he really wanted was companionship during another long, dark night.
Her move toward the door grounded his stray thoughts. “Where are you going?”
She raised and dropped her arms with a loud sigh. “Stay, Chelsie. Get up, Chelsie. What’s next? Heel?”
He burst out laughing. He loved her sense of humor, even when she turned it on him.
Grasping the edge of the comforter, he turned it back, baring the empty side of the bed. “Surely you weren’t warm enough on top of the blanket, and I couldn’t get comfortable either.”
“Oh.” She eyed the space next to him.
“You can get back in now.” He patted the sheet and grinned.
Hesitantly, she complied and settled in beside him. He glanced at the miles of linen separating them. “No one could accuse you of hogging the bed.” She’d lain down, taking up only one quarter of the king-sized mattress. “I won’t bite. I won’t even try anything,” he promised. “I just want to talk.”
She maneuvered until she lay next to him. Her delicious scent might make that promise damned difficult, but he knew he would keep it. “Why was your marriage short?” he asked.
“I don’t suppose I could change the subject?”
“Sure you could. But I’d just change it back.”
She propped one arm beneath her head. “Okay. He wasn’t the man I thought I’d married. He changed.”
“And that hurt you.”
She exhaled a harsh laugh. “In more ways than one.”
“He hurt you?”
Her startled gasp revealed his guess had been correct. The anger fueled by that knowledge stunned him, as did the proprietary way he pulled her into his arms.
She tensed. With her back to him, he curled himself around her. When he did little more than smooth her hair and rest his chin in the crook of her neck, her muscles seemed to relax.
“What happened, Chelsie?” This time, he tensed, sure that as much as he’d wanted to hear the details of her past, he wouldn’t like what he learned.
“I’d volunteered at a women’s shelter in college and had seen too many women abused who then went back for more.” She drew a deep breath, causing her body to quiver. “I never thought it would happen to me. For all my parents’ faults—and they have many—they never raised a hand to each other or to us kids. I never thought I’d allow it to happen to me.”
“You don’t always know someone, even when you think you do.” Thanks to his mother and ex-fiancée, Griff had discovered that himself, though not to the extreme Chelsie had.
“Shannon and Jared were lucky, don’t you think?” Chelsie whispered the words.
He nodded in answer. Despite his poor track record with women, Griff envied his brother’s ability to create a happy home with the woman he loved. For the first time in his life, he wondered if he was capable of the same, if a woman existed who would break down his notions and barriers and love just him.
He glanced down at Chelsie. Comfortable silence drifted around them. “What happened?” he prompted.
“We graduated from the same law school. He went to work for a large firm, I worked for the D.A. He wanted money and power, I wanted to help others. Maybe that should have told me something.”
“Come on. Lots of people have conflicting ideals and still make a marriage work. I’d hardly call that missing a sign of something serious.”
“Maybe. Anyway, we were married for less than a year. With the hours first-year associates work, I rarely saw him. The few times he displayed his temper, I fell right into the trap. I accepted his apologies and believed he wouldn’t do it again.”
He sensed her anger at herself and at her ex.
“Obviously the marriage never got off to a strong start,” she said. “One night, we went to a cocktail party at his law firm. One of the associates recognized me from my work at the local women’s shelter. He’d been drinking and caused quite a scene. Blamed me for talking his wife into leaving him.”
“Sounds like the guy was a real winner.”
“Yes, well, when the shouting started, the senior partners weren’t too pleased. Seems they were courting major clients at the time.”
In what had to be an unconscious move, she curled into him. He wrapped his arms around her in a protective gesture, knowing as he held her that he never wanted to let go. Holding her tight, he mentally prepared himself for the untold part of the story. “And then?”
“My husband dragged me out of there. I thought he’d be disgusted with his associate and frustrated with the way the evening had turned out. Maybe he’d rant and rave a little, but a while had passed
since he’d raised his hand, let alone his voice, so I figured that would be the end of it.”
“I take it he said plenty?” And lashed out even more, Griff thought with dread.
“The elevator in our building had broken and I followed him up the stairs with him yelling the entire way—about how I caused that scene, how I should keep my nose out of other people’s personal lives, how I should get myself a real job and start earning some money to help support us. You get the picture.”
What Griff pictured was a spineless man too cowardly to stand up for his wife and too selfish to care. “And?” he asked softly.
“And he turned toward me to finish his tirade.” Her voice quivered and her skin, which had been so soft against his, suddenly felt damp. At that moment, Griff knew he didn’t want to hear any more. But Chelsie seemed lost in the past, as she had been so many times before. He shut his eyes to the darkness surrounding him, but he couldn’t block out the truth.
“He grabbed my shoulders and shoved me against the railing. He wanted my promise that I’d quit, that I’d stop volunteering, that I’d do something with my life that he could be proud of instead of having to hide his head every time someone asked what kind of law his wife practiced.”
Griff held her close, soothing her with gentle kisses against her neck, but she continued her story as if unaware of his touch. She began to tremble in his arms.
“My back was pressed against the metal railing and each time he shook me, my head hit the concrete wall. The first time, I was so stunned, I thought it was an accident. But he just shook me harder.
Each time, my head hit that damned wall. He had a firm grip on my arms and I couldn’t move. By the time he stopped, I was dizzy. I couldn’t catch my balance. I think he knew that, but he released me anyway.” She sucked in a breath of air, as if needing the fortification to continue.
Griff decided to spare her. “And you fell down the stairs,” he finished for her.
“When I came to, the paramedics were there. They said, and this is a quote, ‘Consider yourself lucky you have a husband who cares’.”
They lay in silence. Soon, her trembling subsided and she slept in his arms. He had more questions, but none that mattered in the least. What she revealed had been bad enough. The details of what happened after were unimportant. But the sudden need to protect her signaled a serious problem.
Truly Madly Deeply Boxed Set Page 9