"What is he doing up there?" Wincing when she heard something clatter to the floor, she hustled to the stairs.
"Harrison?" Racing into the bedroom, she approached the bathroom door with trepidation. "Traynor? You all right?"
When he jerked it open, Harrison was nearly naked except for twin casts, startlingly white against the tanned skin of his left arm and right ankle. The loosely knotted towel he'd tied around his waist– with only one working hand, began a slow descent to lean hips she couldn't tear her gaze from. Dangerously loose.
"I've been in the same clothes for two days, now."
"Technically, you haven't been in any clothes the past two days," she reminded.
"I'm tired of lounging around in my underwear."
Kendall raised her gaze to the ceiling. "It won't kill you to wait one more-"
"I'm taking a shower," he interrupted. "Are you helping or not?" Her expression of horror incited a chuckle. "I didn't think so. You'd better trot out there and hide." He pointed a casted hand to the bedroom. "I'm in dire need of soap and water."
"But– I gave you a bath last night." His eyes suddenly fascinated, Ken retreated a step.
"I thought I imagined it." Harrison hobbled closer. "Well, this should be a breeze. You can help."
"Harrison– I can't help you shower." Heat crawling into her face, she took another step back. "It was dark last night. I sponged you off. I didn't-"
"See anything?" He smirked.
"No, dammit. Now, get back in bed," she ordered. "One more day and you'll be able to stand up by yourself without me worrying about you passing out."
"This is your fault," he pointed out. "We could've reviewed contracts." Turning, he hobbled back to the shower. "I have about twenty minutes of energy left. I'm devoting it to getting clean."
"You're not supposed to get your casts wet." Kendall fumed, listening for him to fall. Stepping into the shower, Harry stared at her.
"I'm dropping my towel."
She couldn't shake the image of him, slick with soap when he lost his balance and toppled over. He'd hit his head for sure and she'd end up back in the emergency room.
"Dammit, hold on." Okay– so he had a body that would likely keep her awake the rest of the night. It wasn't as though she would've slept much anyway. "I'm here," she announced, eyes scrunched shut as she inched toward the shower. "Just like you expected."
"I never assumed it was a lock." Harry's voice floated from behind the opaque curtain. Opening one eye, Kendall was relieved to discover she could only see the shadowy outline of his body.
"Stick your casted leg out here," she instructed. "Why don't you sit on the bench and I'll get the hand-held shower down for you. That way you won't fall."
"I knew you'd be full of ideas once you put your mind to it."
"We should bag up your hand so the cast doesn't get wet." She waited for him to sit before turning to leave. "Hang on while I run downstairs."
Kendall was out of breath by the time she hurtled back upstairs. She couldn't help noticing his underwear on the floor near the door where he'd dropped them. The appallingly vivid image of Traynor's naked body overtook her brain in a flash of heat. Mercy, she couldn't start thinking about him that way.
"Are you decent?" She winced at the croaky sound of her voice and inched closer to the shower.
"I always thought I was a decent person, but after meeting you, I'm forced to reconsider." Harrison paused. "I hate admitting this, but I'm pretty self-centered compared to you."
Despite her aggravation, she smiled. "Give me your hand." When it appeared from behind the curtain, she tugged the baggie down over long, tapered fingers. "Why do you say that?"
"I don't think I'd go out of my way for someone the way you have for me. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have helped you."
She twisted the baggie around the top of his cast. "You would have left me there? In the bottom of the crater?"
"I'm not that bad," he hastened to explain. "I'd have taken you to the hospital. And I would've driven you home. But-" There was a long pause behind the curtain. "I'm sort of embarrassed to admit I would've avoided the hassle of taking care of a stranger." Ken startled when his face suddenly appeared, his green eyes thoughtful. "I'd think of all the work I could be doing or I'd wonder 'when will this person finally leave'." A frown creased his perfect forehead.
"I think that qualifies as a normal reaction."
"But not what's right." Harry wiggled his fingers to get her attention. When she raised her gaze, he smiled. "Can I have my hand back?"
"Oh– sorry." She jolted from her trance. "I'll get the shower handle down for you." She reached in through the front of the curtain, careful not to make contact when she held it out for him to grasp. "Tell me when your hair is wet and I'll wash it for you."
"I've learned a lot about you in one day."
Her interest piqued, she glanced at the shadow behind the curtain. "Okay, I'll bite. What do you think you know about me?"
"Well, I haven't seen the rest of your home, but I know it's Victorian because your bedroom is in the turret. It's probably pretty old because you've done some plaster work and painting. And that stained glass window on the landing appears to be original."
"It was built in 1918. How'd you know about the window?" she asked, suddenly suspicious. "Are you getting up when you're not supposed to?"
"Not yet, but I probably will tomorrow, so you'd better lock up your sexy underwear. I plan to snoop through the drawers."
"You'll have your work cut out trying to find them." Kendall chuckled. If she didn't know better, she would have sworn Harry could see her through the curtain.
"Is that a challenge?"
Surprised laughter bubbled free. Three days earlier, she couldn't have imagined a flirty conversation with the uptight, conservative guy she'd believed him to be. But Traynor was incredibly different from how he appeared. "Sexy underwear doesn't coordinate with my work boots. Anywhere else you'll be snooping? I should probably dust first."
"I disagree. Thongs go with just about any shoes." His voice was amused. "I'll probably check out the other rooms up here. Not sure I can handle stairs yet."
"How'd you know about the stained glass?"
"I can see the reflected light in the hallway from the bed. And despite my incoherent state the other night, before I collapsed on your porch I remember glancing up and seeing it. The window was lit up."
"Maybe you should be a detective instead of an accountant." She knew exactly when the water connected with his body because she could hear it sluice off his hard, muscled frame. Despite iron-clad intentions, her imagination was working overtime conjuring a mental picture. Breath hitching in her throat, she shifted from one foot to the other. "How's it going in there?"
"I always wanted to do something more exciting."
"Like what?"
There was a long pause before Harry responded. "I guess what I meant was meaningful. Accounting can be challenging. Sometimes there's an interesting mystery to solve, but not very often." He sounded disappointed.
"I'm sure once you get to be the size of Specialty, it's more than just accounting, right?"
"Well, sure. I have a staff for the day-to-day stuff. I focus more on investing and risk oversight." He sighed audibly. "I'll be ready for you in a minute."
"So, what else have you figured out about me?" Her cheeks burning, Kendall immediately regretted her words. What was she thinking– flirting with him? She wasn't in his league. Not only was he on a higher social plane, but he was also the man who would likely put her out of business.
"You're a sucker for injured animals and wayward men," he volunteered. "You're a great cook."
His pause seemed to go on forever. Humiliation washed over her. Why had she positioned herself to be embarrassed? Hadn't she experienced enough to last a lifetime? And she'd put him on the spot. Harrison didn't know anything about her. His interest was strictly polite.
"What I don't understand is how you manage to
do it all," he finally said. "You run a business. You work in exhausting conditions for– what? Twelve hours a day? And it seems like you make time for a garden and baking and hobbies. I don't have any of that. I don't even have a pet."
Ken stared at the shower curtain, willing her panicky heartbeat to slow. "It's not difficult to adopt a pet, Traynor. Shelters are loaded with them. It's the commitment you're afraid of."
"Why do you say that?"
"Pets aren't like . . . plants. If you had a dog, you'd have to walk him. Feed him. Maybe chat occasionally." She was grateful he couldn't see her for this strange conversation.
"I don't have any plants, either." Despite his anxious tone, the image of impeccable, stunning, hunk-of-the-month Traynor upset over houseplants made her chuckle.
"I just realized my life might be shallow and meaningless and you're laughing?"
"I don't think pets and plants qualify as a full life. Besides, you're not exactly out of time to change your situation."
"Maybe."
She stifled the urge to laugh. "Did you rinse your hair? You're probably starting to prune up."
"I'm ready if you are."
Crossing her fingers, she released a deep breath to quash her nerves. "Okay, I'm coming in."
She kept her focus on the shampoo bottle, supremely conscious of the seriously naked man sitting before her. Keeping her eyes averted, she sought the relative safety of his shoulder. Though broad, his skin was pale– a man who didn't get outside much. Nervous, her gaze slid to his bicep– large, defined. Okay– so his workouts were limited to the gym. Hair on his chest trailed lower, but Ken was too embarrassed to sneak another peek.
"Your face always get that color or is it hot in here?"
Hearing laughter in his voice, she knew her cheeks were stained pink. Though she hadn't found the courage to meet his gaze yet, she guessed he was grinning over her nervousness. Shampoo in hand, she glanced cautiously in his direction. "How're you doing? Are you dizzy?"
He was grinning. "Are you? You look a little flushed, Ken."
When she scowled, his smile widened, revealing two amazing dimples. "Shut up. And close your eyes or I might smear shampoo in them just for kicks."
Obeying, his smile remained. She squirted shampoo into his hair and massaged his scalp, slowing when she neared the bruised spot. "Is that still tender?"
"It feels great. I think I'll require a shampoo every night."
"I meant the bump, Harrison."
"Oh, that. It still hurts."
Her snort must have been audible because his shoulders began shaking. "I'm going to rinse your hair. Can you tilt your head back without getting dizzy?"
He complied, eyes still closed, his perfect face completely relaxed. Kendall took advantage of the opportunity to enjoy staring at him without his laser-beam scrutiny following her every move. Greek statue, my ass. Traynor was seriously hot. A rangy, athletic body- Jeez, she really shouldn't have peeked. Her mouth suddenly dry, she resisted the urge to fan herself, afraid he'd jerk his eyes open and find her drooling. He was probably even sexier than usual with a two-day growth of beard staining his face. Forcing her gaze upward, her fingers lingered in his hair, though she'd rinsed out all the soap. What Harry didn't know-
"Okay, you're officially clean. Let's get a towel around you so you can hobble back to bed." Heart pounding, she took a step back, her limbs less sure of themselves than before. Dammit, she seriously shouldn't have looked.
Harry's eyes fluttered open, glancing around in confusion. "Are we done?"
Shutting off the water, she returned the shampoo to the shelf. "Are you lightheaded?"
"I feel . . . tired. Is it hot in here?"
"Let's get you out of there." Snatching a towel from the stack, she threw it over his lap. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she tugged him to his feet and scrambled for his cane. Though she'd hooked it on the towel bar, she had to grope behind her to find it. "Hang on, Harrison. Don't– fall." When he staggered toward her, she stumbled back into the wall.
Harry caught himself at the last minute, throwing his good hand out to lean against the wall in the tiny bathroom. Kendall waited, squashed between his large frame and the wall at her back.
"Take a deep breath," she instructed, focusing what little composure remained. "You're just overheated. As soon as we get around the corner to the bedroom, the air will be cooler."
"Right." Resting his forehead on his arm, he leaned into her, pressing her against the wall. She remained still, barely breathing– praying he wouldn't pass out. Finally, his gaze seemed to refocus and his green eyes locked with hers. "Did I hurt you?"
"I'm fine." As fine as she could be, pressed against his solid, fabulous-smelling, seriously naked body. "Ready for your cane?"
"Yeah." Taking it from her, he slowly pushed off the wall. She held his arm while he steadied himself, then reached for his towel, carefully averting her gaze from his incredible backside. The mirror made that task impossible. Ken fanned herself, grimacing when she caught a glimpse of her overheated face. As soon as Traynor was in bed, she'd need a long shower, too. A cold one.
Chapter 4
Limping back to bed, Harry collapsed with relief, breathing hard with the effort. Resisting the frustrated urge to fling his cane to the floor, he hung it carefully on the bedside table. Clearly, he wouldn't get far without it.
What the hell had just happened? One minute he was teasing Kendall and the next he was fighting to stay upright. He'd nearly blacked out in her bathroom.
Poor Ken had certainly received an anatomy lesson tonight. She was so damn skittish . . . as though she'd somehow managed to reach thirty without ever talking to a man– never mind sleeping with one. Yet, she worked in a male-dominated industry. She ordered her crews around every day. But with him, she seemed to blush every time they talked. Although . . . the naked part probably hadn't helped much.
He watched her shadow move around the bathroom. She still hadn't surfaced yet. Hell, she was probably in there laughing. And if he wasn't feeling foolish enough, he now had even less clothing than he'd gone in with. "Hell." Swinging his legs into bed, Harry jerked the covers over him.
"Ken? I didn't crush you, did I?"
"I'll be right out," she called. "Just mopping up the water."
Kendall emerged a minute later, concern still visible in warm, amber eyes. "Do you feel any better? You gave me quite a scare." She fanned her face. "I shouldn't have run the water so hot."
"Three days ago I could run five miles. Now, I can't walk ten feet without you holding my hand." Harry winced at the bitter sound of his voice. He had no right to complain– and even less right to take it out on her.
"Yet," she suggested. "The doctor said it would be several days before your head feels better. And the rest of you will heal . . . it just takes time." Inching closer to the bed, she switched on the lamp.
"I'm not the most patient guy," he admitted. When he glanced at her, he did a double-take. Ken had pinned her hair up– probably due to the heat. Twisted carelessly, the riot of mahogany waves was secure, except for a few wayward strands. Absently, she tucked those behind her ear as she searched for his pill bottle. Unable to stop staring, Harry swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. In the glow of the lamplight, her cheeks were flushed pink with exertion, her golden eyes warm with concern. Her mouth- When his gaze traveled to the shadowed gap in her blouse, he jerked back. Jesus.
"Look how much you've improved in two days," she reminded, oblivious to his sudden realization as she handed him a pill.
Bewildered by his erratic thoughts, he shoved them aside. "Do I have to sleep with this?" Groping for a safe topic, Harry held up his hand, still encased in the plastic bag, waiting for her inevitable chuckle. He'd decided in the shower he liked the rich, smoky sound of Kendall's laugh. Her voice conjured images of an aged, sweet Glenlivet. A shadowy jazz club. Hot, bed-wrecking sex- Wait– what the fuck?
"I think it's safe now." He startled when she tugged the bag from hi
s fingers. "You should get some sleep. You've had enough excitement for one night."
"You're right." Grateful when she snapped off the light, a jumble of illogical thoughts cluttered his brain. It must be the concussion. He released a ragged sigh over the sensible explanation. She was nearly to the door when she turned.
"G'night, Harrison. Call if you need anything."
"Ken?" He waited until she'd taken a step back. "Although it may appear I don't have any secrets left, I'm a little uncomfortable with the idea of becoming your love slave. Any chance I can have some clothes tomorrow?"
She raised a hand to her mouth, her eyes sparking with humor as she remembered his naked state. Her expression made Harry forgot his awkwardness.
"Sorry, Traynor. I forgot."
"You forgot I was naked." He smiled. "I'm not sure my ego can take much more of this."
As expected, her cheeks bloomed with color. "I didn't say I forgot what I saw."
He chuckled when her eyes widened, as though she'd revealed something she hadn't intended. "Maybe the love-slave thing is the excitement I'm missing."
Winged brows drew down in a frown. "I'll check the spare room. My dad sometimes leaves stuff behind when he visits."
Relaxed in a way he couldn't explain, Harry listened to her footsteps fade down the hall. With something close to amazement, he acknowledged Kendall was pretty. Why hadn't he seen it before? Freckled from the sun, her nose was damned cute. Full, red lips that were nearly always curved in a smile. Even her voice had changed. He'd noticed in the shower. Behind the curtain, the husky, sensual tone was not what he'd remembered. The discovery raised more questions than it answered. How would she sound when she moaned? Instead of nails on a chalkboard, the smoky rasp had scorched along his nerve endings– leaving certain things obvious in his naked state. It was a good thing she'd been too shy to look.
"Here we are."
Kendall drifted back into the room, her slender body framed in the light from the hall. Her face in shadows, she had several items of clothing draped over one arm.
Falling For Ken (Blueprint to Love Book 2) Page 5