Mistletoe purred. Her wide, flat face and green irises made her look wise. Her eyes closed in pleasure as Holly pointed the blow dryer at the cat's coat.

Mistletoe loved the heat of the machine. She could lie there for hours being warmed and petted. Her purr rumbled as low as the motor. Holly felt the vibrations through her fingers. She turned the dryer off after a few minutes, Mistletoe b.u.mped her fingers with her damp nose as if asking for more.

"Wait until you have your babies," Holly said.

Mistletoe stretched, then rested her head on her front paws, as if she intended to nap on the counter.

"Fine by me," Holly said. She glanced in the mirror. Her nose was still red, but some of the puffiness had gone down around her eyes. Her hair wasn't completely dry, but that always took forever. She pulled it back into a loose ponytail and walked out of the bathroom. First she would check on Jordan , then she would finish dinner.

As she approached the study, she heard a m.u.f.fled curse. When she walked in the room, Jordan was pacing shirtless. He held his right arm close to his chest. Lines of pain stretched from his nose to his mouth.

"What's wrong?" she asked as she hurried to his side.

"I painted the baseboards. At least, I started to. Then this muscle seized up in my back." He tried to straighten his arm, then grimaced.

Holly walked behind him. She touched him by his shoulder blade and felt the large knot of muscles. "I used to ma.s.sage my mother," she said. "Do you want me to try and do you?"

He turned so he was facing her. "I'm in too much pain to be done," he said, then grimaced.

She stared at him blankly. "You don't want me to rub your back?"

"Yeah, that would be great."

"Then why did you say-"

He cut her off with a shake of his head. "Joke. Bad timing. Forget it." He glanced around the room. "Where do you want me?"

"Lie down on the bed." As soon as she said the words, she started to get embarra.s.sed. Thankfully he did as she asked without looking at her first.

She went into the bathroom by his room and found a bottle of body lotion. As she returned, she tried not to notice how he looked wearing jeans and nothing else, stretched out on clean white sheets. Her insides felt funny, as if they were being jolted by a slight electric shock. She wore socks but not shoes, and she couldn't stop her toes from curling.

He was hurt, she reminded herself. He was in pain and he needed help. This was medicinal. She wanted to heal, not indulge in some bizarre fantasy.

She approached the bed slowly. His eyes were closed, and a dark lock of hair fell across his forehead. A twitch by his mouth was the only indication of his pain.

She sat on the edge of the bed and uncapped the lotion. After pouring some in her palm, she shifted so she was facing his back and touched her hands to his skin.

He was hotter than she'd expected. While she worked at the knotted muscles, part of her mind stood back and noted differences. Her mother's skin had been thin, her back more narrow, her muscles easily manipulated. Jordan was pure male in his prime. Loan ropes of strength challenged her trained fingers. She pressed her palms against the tightness, trying to force the lactic acid out, and with it, the pain.

She leaned toward him, using her body weight to increase the pressure. Her conscience split in two. One side was the nurse, noting the slight relaxing of tension in his body. That portion of her allowed her to straddle his narrow hips so she was able to put more pressure into her ma.s.sage. The other part of her, the shy, inexperienced woman, was shrieking at what was going on. She couldn't believe she was doing this, on his bed, in his room, with nothing but a few layers of clothing between them.

As she worked, moving slowly, starting her strokes low at the small of his back and sliding up, she tried to ignore the curve of his rear pressing intimately against her. She tried to ignore the dryness of her throat and the nearly uncontrollable urge to giggle. She wanted to stand up and scream, Look at me. I'm touching a man's bare back. But she doubted Jordan would understand.

She rubbed the knot and found it was much smaller, Jordan groaned. "If I pay you a million dollars, will you promise to never stop?" he asked.

"Do you have a million dollars?"

"Not with me."

"Too bad. I would have promised."

She stretched up until she reached his shoulders and neck. She squeezed the muscles there.

"This is heaven," he murmured. "I haven't felt this good in weeks."

"I aim to please."

"You're doing a d.a.m.n fine job." He raised his head. "You're also probably getting a cramp in your hands."

She shook out her fingers. They were a little sore. "I'm fine."

"Stop for now," he said. "You can do more later."

"Sure."

She slid off him. Now that she wasn't ma.s.saging him, the nurse inside her faded away and she was left with just the woman. Awkwardness returned, and with it a feeling of self-consciousness. She needed to get away from this bed. But before she could leave, Jordan turned toward her and grabbed her hand. "Don't go."

It wasn't what he said; it was the way he said it. Holly stared at him. The low, throaty sound of his voice vibrated in her ears. Something about the tone or the pitch sparked an answering resonance deep in her soul. Don't go. He said it the way she'd always imagined men said it to women. She was immobilized. She felt as if she'd forgotten how to breathe.

A dark light flared in his eyes. Some forbidden spark that tempted her. She wasn't sure what she was being tempted for or with. Their gazes locked. She thought about looking away, but he held her in his spell. The room faded around them. There was nothing in the world but the man in front of her.

"Holly."

He spoke her name as if the sound were precious to him. She tried to swallow, but nothing was working. It was then that she noticed he was circling her palm with his thumb. Sensations skittered up her arm, diffusing in her chest, then refocusing in her oddly sensitized b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

"I want to kiss you," he said, his gaze never leaving hers. "And touch you. If that frightens you, then you can go, now or later. I'm not going to make love to you, though. Not because I don't want to, but because-" He paused, then gave a rueful grin. "I couldn't handle the pressure right now. Maybe when I'm stronger."

She blinked several times, sure she couldn't have heard him correctly. He announced he was going to kiss her and touch her? Just like that? He was talking about s.e.x? And it wasn't even seven o'clock? Was he crazy?

But curiosity and antic.i.p.ation were stronger than terror. The thought of leaving was quickly pushed aside. She remembered Jordan's last kiss, and definitely wanted to repeat the experience. Most women experimented with the opposite s.e.x while they were still in high school, or at least in college. Holly knew she was backward when it came to the man-woman thing. Even if Jordan hadn't made her blood race and her heart pound, she still would have been tempted to kiss him again.

If nothing else, she trusted him not to hurt her or do something that would make her uncomfortable.

"You're not leaving," he said. "So the idea of kissing me doesn't horrify you?"

Embarra.s.sment forced her to look away. How long were they going to talk about it? Couldn't they just do it? She shook her head.

"Good."

He tugged her closer. She resisted and sat straighter.

One corner of his mouth curved up in a smile. "I'm in a weakened condition. You're going to have to come to me."

She stared at him uncomprehending.

"I can't sit up," he said.

"Oh." Then she got it. The muscles in his back. His pain. "Oh!" He needed her help. She could do that.