Tender Loving Care

“Logan, you can’t…”

The phone on the nightstand rang.

“I’ll get it.” Wendi leaned over her father and picked up the receiver. “Hello.” She listened for a moment. “Hi, Mr. Anderson. Yeah, he’s right here. No, he looks good. And Melissa’s great. Okay, bye. Here, Dad. It’s Mr. Anderson.”

“I gathered that. Good morning, John.”

Wendi followed Melissa down the hall. “I’m going to try and sleep a little this morning, then Kelly and I are going to the movies.”

Melissa put the tray on the counter and opened the dishwasher. “Are you going to be home for dinner?”

“Are you cooking?”

Her smile was so much like Logan’s that Melissa felt her heart skip a beat. “I could be convinced.”

“All right! I’ll be back by six.” She ran out of the room and skidded around the corner, her long braid flying behind her. Snapping her fingers, she sang, “I’m just too cool for you, boy. Da da, oh yeah. I’m just…” The sound was abruptly cut off when her door slammed shut.

The flowers started arriving at nine. By ten-thirty, half a dozen large bouquets filled Logan’s room. He’s been on and off the phone, fielding calls about various projects he was involved with.

Melissa signed for a spray of perfect peach roses, then carried them into the bedroom. “Here’s another one from—”

He jumped and the receiver went flying. She set the arrangement on the floor and picked up the phone, then folded his fingers around the plastic.

“I’ll have to get back to you,” he growled, and hung up. He turned toward her. “Don’t ever do that to me.”

The anger in his voice was like a blow. She placed the roses on the fireplace mantel. “I’m sorry I startled you. I didn’t know you were on the phone. I won’t interrupt again.”

“Melissa.”

She stood perfectly still, afraid to move, afraid to even breathe.

“Answer me,” he said. “Are you still here?”

“Yes, Logan. I’m right here.” She covered the space to the bed in three short steps. “What do you need?”

He reached out his hand, palm up. The invitation could not be denied and she touched her fingers to his.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you,” he said. “Would you do me a favor and take the flowers out of the room?”

“Why?”

Logan tugged on Melissa’s arm until she was forced to sit next to him. The warm pressure of her thigh against his was comforting…and arousing. The desire lapping at his loins was enough to make him feel lazy…and hungry…and male.

“Because I can’t smell your perfume and I don’t know when you’re in the room.”

“Oh.”

“That’s it? No argument, Nurse VanFleet? Just ‘oh’?”

“You’re the cranky one, not me.”

He heard the smile in her voice. What did she look like? he wondered again. He’d always thought of himself as a visual person, but here he was being turned on by little more than a feminine voice and a gentle touch.

Her hand rested against his, their fingers linked. It had been a long time…maybe too long. While his mind told him to resist the urge, his body clamored for more contact. Her perfume enticed him, erasing the last trace of common sense.

Ah, the hell with it, he thought. They were both adults. His palms moved up her arms to rest on her shoulders; her hair was soft, the wispy ends tickled the backs of his hands.

She shifted, but his fingers pressed down as he held her in place. The air around them became charged with an electric current.

Melissa felt the subtle change in the room. What had started out friendly, even comforting, rapidly became erotic. Stand up, she told herself. If she stayed another second, she’d give in to temptation.

She stared at his face, searching for a clue to what he was thinking. The lines of his jaw were taut, his lips pulled straight in a firm line, but neither told her anything.

Then his hands began to move toward her face, tracing random patterns on her neck. He wanted her, she thought with relief and anticipation. She started to lean forward, then stopped. No, that wasn’t quite correct. He wanted a woman and she was the only one around.

“Say something,” he commanded, pulling her toward him.

“Logan, let me go….”

He silenced her with a kiss. Those lips that she’d been admiring now brushed against hers. The touch wasn’t the hungry assault she’d have expected from a man like him, but a tender exploration. Moving from one corner to the other, he made sure every millimeter of her mouth was equally caressed, tasted, savored. Comfort and contact with another person, she told herself. That’s all he was interested in. Yet the logical explanation didn’t keep her from reacting to his ministration. Her heart pounded in her ears.

Bracing his weight on one arm, he tilted her jaw with his other hand. Now that she was free, she told herself to push away. But instead, her fingers trailed up his arms and shoulders to meet in the middle of his back, then moved to the thick curls at the nape of his neck. He was silk and steel. His skin was hot like fire, his hair was cool like satin.

He pressed his thumb lightly on her chin, urging her to allow him entrance. No, she thought. But the deep moan in his chest was her undoing. She opened her mouth and welcomed his tongue with the touch of hers.

It was like drowning in fire. Flames of sensation ran through her body, pausing only to collect in her breasts and between her thighs. Fighting against his touch became impossible and she gave herself up to the inferno.

Logan’s fingers traced the line of her neck, then moved down to her shoulder. He longed to discover the curves he’d earlier wondered about. Even through her clothes, he could feel the roundness of her body; the lush fullness, so different from Fiona’s harsh angles and protruding bones, made him ache. He…

Logan drew back with a suddenness that caused his head to swim. What the hell was he thinking of? Melissa was his nurse and hired by his boss. He had no business making love with her…or any other woman like her, for that matter. Hadn’t he learned his lesson? He only wanted sophisticated types who knew the rules of the game: no commitments, no pain. Despite her humor and intelligence, she didn’t strike him as the worldly kind.

“Logan, I…” Melissa’s voice cracked, but it wasn’t enough of a clue to tell him what she was thinking. The mattress moved and he knew she’d stood up. He wanted to rip the bandages from his eyes and study her face.

“I’m very sorry,” she said, her voice sounding nearby. “I should never have allowed things to get so out of hand. It was very unprofessional of me.”

The genuine shock and remorse in her tone filled him with irritation. He swore.

“Logan? Are you hurt?”

He turned away. “I’m fine.” He ached, but it couldn’t be helped by one of her little pills. The only cure would be to bury that part of him deep within her waiting softness and carry them both to a place beyond pain.

Melissa touched her hand to her kiss-swollen lips. She felt like a fool…or worse. An incident like this could cost her her job, or at the very least, her self-respect.

She’d heard about patients coming on to nurses. It hadn’t happened to her before, but she recognized the symptoms. A caring woman helping a man in need. They were isolated together in a world of their own making. It was a volatile situation.

Logan tried to smile. “I’m sorry, too.”

She silenced him by pressing her fingers on his arm. “Don’t apologize. It happens all the time. Not to me, of course. The only thing Bobby ever did was give me his favorite stuffed animal, but I think the sentiment was the same.”