He shrugged, then grimaced as muscles in his back protested. "Like I was thrown off the side of a building."

Instead of smiling, she grew solemn with concern. "I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"Yes, it is." She leaned toward him and placed her cup on the table. "I shouldn't have asked you to go back and rescue Mistletoe. When I think about it now..." She swallowed. Her blue eyes darkened with an emotion he couldn't read. "You could have been killed."

"I wouldn't have gone in if I'd been in that much danger."

"Really?"

He nodded. "I like what I do for a living, but I don't have a death wish."

She gave him a faint smile. "She's all I have left from my mother. Mistletoe was a gift to me the Christmas before Mom died. I'm very grateful for what you did." Her voice was husky.

Somehow, in all the moving around her chair had slid closer to the bed. Now, if she leaned forward as she was doing now, her hands rested on the edge of the mattress. A single strand of blond hair hung down by her cheek. The wisp brushed against her skin, but she didn't seem to notice. His gut clenched as he wondered if she was going to cry. He freely admitted he was a typical male, completely knocked off balance by female tears.

"Just doing my job," he said lightly.

She responded with a smile. "What made you want to do that rather than become a police officer like the rest of your family?"

He pushed the controls and lowered the bed a little, then tucked one hand behind his head. "When I was about eight or nine, a house in the neighborhood caught fire. I watched the fire department at work. I'd never really understood what my father and uncles did. I knew from television they were supposed to catch the bad guys, but Glenwood isn't a hotbed of criminal activity. The sheriff's department acts more as a deterrent than a crime-solving organization. But I could see what the fire fighters did, and I was impressed. That stayed with me."

He reached for his coffee. That wasn't the only reason. Growing up, he'd also watched his old man. By the time he was twelve, he knew he didn't want to be anything like his father. Earl Haynes had a reputation for being a ladies' man.

Jordan swore silently. It wasn't just the women his father flaunted. It was the disrespect for everyone else. No one mattered, and nothing was important but Earl's pleasures. He often hit the boys for no reason, then told them to consider themselves punished in advance of their next mistake. Jordan's brothers had been able to look past the man and carry on the family tradition of law enforcement, but not Jordan.

He could feel his anger building. Even after all this time, his father still got to him. He wondered if that would ever change.

"Jordan? Are you feeling all right?" Holly's voice was concerned. She rose and touched her palm to his forehead. With her other hand she took his wrist and felt his pulse. "Slightly elevated," she murmured, "but you don't feel hot."

She pressed the back of her hand against his cheek, then touched his earlobe. He figured if she kept that up much longer, he could really show her an elevated pulse.

"Do you want a painkiller or are you due for some other medication?"

"I'm fine," he said. "Relax."

He was fine. Since getting out of the hospital, he'd grown used to the dull ache in his body. He'd wanted to give up his prescriptions altogether, but he needed the medication to sleep at night. During the day he did without.

She released his hand, sank back in her chair and continued to study him. Gone was the blushing innocent. He liked the contrast of competence and shyness almost as much as he liked her freckles.

She gave him a half smile. "I should leave so you can get some rest."

"I'd prefer that you kept me company. It gets pretty boring lying here all day."

"You've got Louise."

Rather than answer that, he reached for his coffee.

Holly opened her mouth to speak, but before she could say anything, there was a noise from the kitchen. She stood up and turned toward the sound.

"I'm back," Louise called.

Figures, Jordan grumbled to himself.

Holly glanced at her watch. "Goodness. I didn't realize how long I'd been here. You must be exhausted. I'm so sorry. You should have said something." She twisted her fingers together. "My only excuse is that I've been spending too much time on my own. Mistletoe is a sweetie, but she's not much for conversation."

She was babbling. He liked it. It meant she was nervous and unsure of herself. Better than that, it meant she liked him. He wanted her to like him.

He heard footsteps in the hallway, then Louise stepped into the room. Her eyebrows arched in surprise.

"You two seem to be getting along. Everything all right?"

"It's my fault," Holly said quickly. "After dinner I-"

Jordan didn't know how else to shut her up. He reached out and grabbed her hand. She turned and stared at him. He ignored her.

"Everything is fine," he told the housekeeper. "How was your cla.s.s?"

Now both women were staring at him. He figured he had Holly's attention because of the incredibly hot sparks arcing between their clasped hands. He'd never felt anything like it before, and he sure as h.e.l.l didn't know what it meant. He also wasn't going to let go, because he had a feeling if he did, she would bolt. He wanted to make sure she was going to come back and see him again.

Louise stared at him because his question was the first civil comment he'd spoken since she arrived. For a moment he wondered if it was really so necessary to be such a b.a.s.t.a.r.d around her. Then he reminded himself of all she'd done and how many lives she'd torn apart, and he knew she deserved all that and more. The fact that she was doing a nice thing by looking after him was something he would have to learn to ignore.

"The professor barely looks old enough to have to shave every day, but he lectures real nice," Louise said cautiously.

"I should go," Holly said, tugging her fingers free.

Jordan didn't want to let her go. For one incredibly stupid moment he wished he could stand up and kiss her. If he'd been on medication, he would have said it was the drugs talking, but he hadn't had anything since the previous evening. So it was the boredom or the pain. Or maybe it was the fact that outside his family, he didn't have many friends. He liked Holly. She was someone he could be friends with.

Even as he thought the statement, he half expected to be zapped by lightning. Sure, he wanted to be friends with her. That's why he'd spent half the evening staring at her curves.

"Come back tomorrow," he said without thinking.

Holly's full lips turned up at the corners. "I'd like that," she said softly.

He smiled. Her reaction was instant. Her mouth parted and her breathing increased. He saw the faint tremor that rippled through her body. He'd never much wanted it, but apparently he still had it. The infamous whatever that made Haynes men popular with the ladies. Years before he'd used it to get whatever he wanted, but he'd grown up and the game had lost its appeal.

He turned off the smile, and Holly blinked, as if she were awakening from a spell. She gave him a quick wave and walked from the room. Louise followed. Jordan was left alone in the silence.

He would have to be careful. Despite his preoccupation with her curves, be liked Holly and he would be grateful for her company. But only as his friend. He didn't want anything more. He knew the truth about romantic entanglements. He'd learned it from an expert. Despite all the songs and movies about the joys of falling in love, the truth was that love hurt.

Holly walked into the kitchen to collect her purse.

"I'm impressed," Louise said, strolling behind her. "You worked a miracle."

"It wasn't very difficult." Holly smiled at the house keeper and hoped her trembling wasn't obvious. Touching Jordan to see if he had a fever was one thing. She could ignore the fact that he was handsome, charming and very close to naked. But when he'd taken her hand and smiled at her, she'd thought she was going to faint.