Jaci Burton - Hope Flames

She hissed out a breath. “Shit. That hurts.”

“Told you it would.” He bent and blew over the wound, the gentle warmth not at all softening the blow of the peroxide. But the way he held her leg so gently—his fingers flexing around her calf as he finished cleaning out the wound—and applied antibiotic ointment was so incongruous with his big, tough exterior, it momentarily surprised her. And then he did the other knee, which hurt just as bad, but the aftermath was just as sweet.

The last man in her life hadn’t been gentle with her, hadn’t cared for her when she’d been hurt. She’d been left to take care of her own wounds. After all, it had been her own fault when she’d gotten injured. He’d made her apologize.

She shook her head, shaking loose thoughts of the past.

“Everything going okay up there?”

She gazed down at Luke. “You’re very good at this first aid thing.”

“Thanks. Coming from a doctor, I take that as a high compliment.”

She laughed. “My patients very rarely voice a complaint.”

He leaned back on his heels. “Oh, but I’ll bet you can tell when they’re in pain.”

“I can. I don’t like it when they hurt. I don’t like it when anyone is hurt.”

He was gentle as he applied the bandage to her other knee. “I think you’re a softy, Emma.”

“I can be when it’s called for. I think you’re a bit of a softy, too, Luke.”

He pressed a kiss to both of her bandaged knees. “I don’t like to see anyone hurt.”

She let her eyes drift closed for a fraction of a second. He was so different from any guy she’d ever let get close to her. When she opened her eyes, he was eye level with her.

“Are you all right?”

She shuddered as she inhaled. “Yup. Just fine.”

He held out his hand. “Let’s stand you up before you start to get stiff.”

She grasped his hand, and he pulled her upright. Her knees hurt like hell, and she was going to be sore for days, but it could have been a lot worse. He walked her over to the kitchen sink, where they washed off her arms. Those weren’t as bad because she’d been wearing her jacket. A few slight scrapes, and she wouldn’t even need a bandage. Luke cleaned the wounds out and applied some antibacterial salve.

“You’re kind of a mess,” he said.

“That’s kind of an understatement.”

“How about I order us a pizza, and you go change out of those clothes and get into your pajamas?”

“You don’t have to stay.”

“I know I don’t have to. I want to. Besides, I’m hungry.”

Warmth curled around her. “Me, too.”

She hobbled into the bedroom and took a look at herself in the mirror. Ugh. Her hair had half come out of her ponytail, and dirt smudged her face. She looked a wreck. She washed her face, combed her hair and pulled her shirt off, then sat on the bed and tried to peel off the tight workout capris, with very little luck because the bandages were in the way. She needed an extra set of hands to hold the elastic up while she moved her legs.

And it hurt.

“Crap.”

“Emma?”

Her gaze shot up to the closed bedroom door. “Yeah?”

“You doing all right in there?”

She was in her bra and her capris. “Uh. Not really.”

“Can I help?”

She’d already embarrassed herself enough for one night. But she really wanted to get out of these pants. Heaving a sigh, she said, “Come on in.”

He opened the door, and to his credit, didn’t ogle. His expression remained flat. “What can I do to help?”

“Get me out of these pants?”

Now he smiled. “It’s every guy’s dream to hear a woman say that, you know.”

She laughed. “Yeah, well, not in the way you think. They’re really tight and the bandages are in the way. I need more hands than what I have. I guess we should have taken the pants off first.”

“Probably. But that would have rubbed the wounds. We could have cut them off of you.”

“Hey. I like these workout pants.”

“Then let’s peel them off. That’s the problem with you women wearing this tight workout gear. You should wear sweats, like me.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Whatever, fashionista.”

“Okay, tell me what you need me to do.”

“I’ll roll them down. Just pull the bottoms apart enough that I can slide my legs out.”

“Sure.”

Now that he was there, she realized she’d have to shimmy out of the pants and shuck them off until they hung at her knees. But she wanted them off, and that was her first priority. Embarrassment wasn’t going to be an issue, at least not until she got the pants off. She slid them down over her hips, hoping her underwear would stay in place.

And hey, at least she had underwear on.

“I’ll stretch these enough for you to ease your legs out, okay?”

He was doing a really good job of just looking at her legs. “Yes.”

She eased one leg out, then the other, then breathed a sigh of relief when he handed her the pants.

“That’s done.”

“Thanks, Luke.”

“You’re welcome.” He grinned. “Always happy to see a hot woman in her underwear. It’s like a bonus.”

She laughed. “Get out of here.”

He turned and shut the door behind him while she went up in flames.

She was a wreck. Bandaged, bloody, and dirty, and he still thought she was hot, huh? She was sure he was just being nice, considering both her knees were swollen and bandaged, and she had cuts and bruises all over. But as she hobbled back into the bathroom, she took a close look at her pink-and-beige lace panties. The pink sports bra wasn’t all that unattractive, either. She was glad she had worn them because other than the bumps, bruises, scrapes, and totally wild hair, she didn’t look too bad.

Not that she was trying to impress Luke with her half-naked body.

But still. Not too bad.

THAT HAD BEEN absolute torture. It had been bad enough when Emma had shown up in those skintight running pants that cupped her ass and showed off every one of her curves. Curves he could still remember running his hands over not that long ago.

Luke had been glad she’d hung back and run behind him, because if he’d let her get ahead of him and he’d had to watch her while he ran, all the blood would have rushed from his brain to his dick, and he more than likely would have passed out or something.

And then he’d had to walk in on her half-undressed in her bedroom and fulfill her request to take her pants off, leaving her in that practically see-through underwear?

A guy could only take so much. He knew she was hurt and in pain, but his dick only saw soft, creamy flesh and a beautifully curved body, instead of a vulnerable woman in need of tender care. Everything in him that was a man wanted to take her in his arms and kiss away her hurt, then use his tongue on every part of her until she screamed in pleasure.

He’d already gotten her there once, knew what she was like when she came apart. He wanted to ease her pain, and what better way to do that than to give her pleasure?

Shit. And now he was staying for pizza. He must be some kind of glutton for punishment.

“That’s better.”

She came out limping, but dressed in loose sweatpants and a T-shirt.

And she still looked hot. Christ, he had it bad. It was time to suck it up and take it like a man. One fast pizza, tuck her in bed, and then he was outta there.

“I ordered the pizza. Come sit down.”

She made her way to the sofa, which had reclining seats. He got her situated, pulled one of the throw blankets off the back, and propped her legs up to rest them.

“Comfortable?” he asked as he leaned over her to tuck the blanket in next to her hips, trying not to think about the soft curve of said hips he’d seen when she’d been wearing nothing but her underwear.

“If my knees weren’t throbbing, I might fall asleep before the pizza got here.”

“I’ll make you something to drink and get you a couple Tylenol. Where do you keep them?”

“Kitchen cabinet next to the sink. And you don’t need to do that.”

“It’s no problem, Emma. You need someone to take care of you tonight.”

He went into the kitchen and poured her a soda, grabbed the pills, and drew in a couple of long breaths, reminding himself that he was there on a mercy mission. But damn, did she have to look so sexy with her hair spread out across the back of the sofa, her cheeks soft and pink, and her eyes so trusting?

If she only knew the nefarious thoughts going through his head, she’d toss him out on his ass.

He came back out with the drink and the Tylenol. “I also fixed some ice packs for your knees. It’ll help to keep the swelling down.”

She took the pills and swallowed them with her drink, then set the glass on the side table. “You think of everything. If you hadn’t been here, I’d have driven myself home and likely crawled right into bed to drown my sorrows.”

He pulled the blanket aside and gently laid the ice packs on top of her knees. “I don’t know. Even though you’re a vet, you’re still a doctor. I think you know the importance of taking care of injuries right away.”

“Maybe. Right now I just feel like a stupid girl.”

He laughed. “You’re not the first person to trip and fall, you know.”

Her direct gaze gut-punched him. “I realize that. I still feel like a moron.”

He replaced the blanket, then leaned over and got close. “Prettiest moron I’ve ever seen.”

Her gaze caught and held his. He waited, knowing this was a really bad idea, but Emma did something to him. Maybe he was offering comfort, and maybe what he was doing was purely for his own selfish reasons.

Either way, she didn’t look scared, or pissed off.

Just . . . curious. Maybe even a little inviting.

He drew in closer.

And then the doorbell rang.

Like a pin in a balloon, the moment burst. Emma blinked, then offered up a shaky breath.

“Pizza guy.”

“Yeah.” He pushed up and went to the front door, mentally cussing out the pizza guy for having really shitty timing.

They ate, though Emma only nibbled on a couple of pieces. It was obvious her accident was wearing on her as her lids started to droop down.

“You need to go to bed.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re tired, and rest is the best thing for you. Do you have to work tomorrow?”

She laughed. “When you’re the single owner of a business, it’s not like someone else can go in for you.”

“Come on.” He pushed the recliner to a sitting position and helped her stand.

She winced. He looped an arm around her waist and led her toward her bedroom.

“You’re going to be sore tomorrow.”

“I know. I’ll make it.”

“You could always reschedule your appointments and take the day off.”

“I don’t think so. People are counting on me, and I have a reputation I’m trying to build. I’ll tough it out.”

He pulled back her covers, and she climbed into bed. He grabbed her extra pillow so she could slide it under her legs, propping up her knees. When he pulled the blanket up, he laid his hand over hers and her gaze met his.

“Would you like me to stay here tonight? Make sure you’re okay?”

“No. I’m fine, Luke, really. You’ve done more than enough already. But I appreciate it, more than you know.”

“Okay.” On impulse, he bent and brushed a kiss across her lips.

He pulled back, searched her face, her chocolate brown eyes melting him, making him want to do a hell of a lot more than just kiss her.

And the way she looked up at him was an invitation.

But she was hurt, and vulnerable, and tonight was hands-off, no matter how much her eyes said yes.

He stood. “I’m going to go get your car so you’ll have it for work tomorrow. I’ll lock the front door on my way out.”

She reached for his hand, her eyes partially closed. “Thank you, Luke. You’re my hero.”

He was nobody’s hero. Especially not hers. Not with the kinds of thoughts he was having about her right now.

“Night, Emma.”

THE PAST FEW days had been brutal. Emma had come home, fed the dogs, and fallen into bed in a pained, exhausted stupor.

Her knees had finally started to form scabs, but they still ached, and being on her feet all day hadn’t helped any, though it was probably good for her to keep moving. It was just at night when she got home and finally sat down that the stiffness settled in. And since she was sore and tender, she’d been missing her regular workouts, which made her tired and grumpy.