Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 72892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Why am I not surprised that he knows that?
I know fashion, to a limited degree, and the suit he’s wearing had a price tag with at least three zeroes attached to it.
“A friend back in Buffalo loaned it to me,” I explain, not wanting him to think I sneak around Manhattan committing robberies. “I forgot to give it back to her.”
He reaches toward me and I don’t move even though I know the intensity I’ll feel once his hand touches me.
His fingers brush against the clasp of the bracelet. “It looks like it’s barely hanging on. I think it broke when you fell.”
With little effort, he has the bracelet in his hand and then it disappears into the pocket of his suit jacket. “I’ll hold onto it so you don’t lose it.”
I should thank him for that and for rushing to help me tonight, but his attention is diverted to his phone when the sound of a chime fills the air.
As his fingers dance over the screen typing out a message, my gaze drifts to the window and the sights of the city as we pass through it on our way to my home.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Eloise
“You’re a fan of all things lavender.”
It’s a proclamation that has no basis in truth, so I shake my head. “My mom is. She gave me all those bath products last Christmas and then came here two weeks later to unpack them and stack them on those shelves in my bathroom.”
Dr. Morgan chuckles. “Sounds like a mom move.”
I nod. “Did you find the first aid kit?”
He holds up the white plastic box with a handle attached to it. “This is vintage. How long have you had this, lamb?”
The question gets buried beneath the endearment in my mind. I stare at him.
“We’ll talk about that,” he promises as he takes a seat next to me on my couch. “I didn’t notice that in the car.”
If he’s talking about how my heart is thundering in my chest, I don’t know how he missed it. The sound is deafening to me, but it’s my heart, so maybe I’m the only one who can hear it.
“Your elbow is split wide open too,” he remarks, his gaze darting to the scrape on my knee before it lands back on my arm. “That tumble was brutal.”
“It hurt,” I admit. “I must have slipped on the wet pavement.”
“You flew by the car I was in,” he admits. “I wasn’t sure I’d ever catch up to you.”
I smile at the suggestion that I could beat the man in a foot race.
His legs are so much longer than mine; his body more powerful.
“We need to get all of those wounds cleaned up.” His eyes catch mine. “In my professional opinion, a shower would be the best approach for that.”
The idea of being naked in my apartment with him anywhere within a ten-block radius, heats me from the inside out.
“You’re flushed.” He rests the back of his right hand against my forehead. “Are you feeling lightheaded?”
Not sure, if what I’m feeling is related to my fall or his presence, I nod. “A little, I think.”
His gaze drops to my arm again and then beyond to my knee. “Maybe I should take you in to be checked. I’m worried you hit your head, Eloise.”
The last place I want to go is the hospital because I’m not sure I’ll get another chance to be alone with him again. “No, I’m fine.”
“At least let me help you to the shower,” he says with a tilt of his head. “I realize things between us are…”
“You can help me,” I interrupt not wanting to hear him describe how he views things between us.
I want to hold tight to the memory of that night at the club for the rest of my life.
I can’t lose that. I won’t.
He grabs hold of my hand, stopping to squeeze it. “Take your time getting up.”
I don’t need the warning, but I listen, and allow him to guide me to my feet at a pace he sees fit. He is the professional, after all.
We walk slowly down the hallway toward the main bathroom. His hand hasn’t left mine and I already know that when it does, I’ll feel bereft.
Once we reach the threshold of the bathroom, he gazes down at me. “Do you need help with the zipper?”
I don’t, but I’m not about to tell him that, so I turn slightly to give him access. “Yes.”
His hand leaves mine to search for the zipper pull at the top of my dress. He pushes my hair to the side, his fingers lingering on the skin of my neck.
I shiver from his touch, and again when he tugs the zipper down.
I’m not wearing a bra tonight, but I sense the moment he catches a glimpse of the top of my black lace panties because I hear his breathing stutter for a second.