"Julia!"

Ben snorted again.

Julia smiled and winked.

Sterling reappeared. "Julia, I appreciate your doing this. I know my brother won't be any trouble."

"I'm standing right here," Ben stated from where he leaned one shoulder against the wall.

He was doing a lot of leaning, Julia noticed, looking ultracool, like a living James Dean. And not the

sausage guy.

"I know you're there, Ben, and I know you'll be the perfect gentleman."

This time it was Ben's strong jaw that ticked. Though when he spoke, he plastered a smile on his face.

"Me, cause problems for the lovely Julia?"

Sterling sighed. "Maybe we shouldn't-"

Julia leaped over to Ben and hooked her arm through his with exaggerated enthusiasm. "Look at us,"

she chimed.

Ben managed a grimace that passed for agreement.

"Like two peas in a pod," she drawled, "as happy as can be." Julia smiled at him like she'd found the

Holy Grail.

"All right, all right," the older Prescott muttered. "We're going. But I expect you to keep your promise, Ben."

The younger Prescott scowled.

"Just stay here until the end of the month," Sterling persisted. "Your apartment won't be ready until the first, and this way I don't have to worry about you."

Ben's jaw cemented. "I'm not your kid brother anymore, Sterling."

Sterling actually smiled at that. "Sure you are. You'll always be my kid brother. Consider this a wedding

gift for Chloe and me."

"I already gave you china," Ben grumbled.

Sterling's smile widened. "I'd rather have your word that you'll stay here until we get back."

"Hell."

Sterling took that for agreement, and he reached out and shook Ben's hand. "Thanks," Julia heard

Sterling say softly.

Julia and Chloe hugged.

"Are you sure this is okay?" Chloe whispered.

"Absolutely. Don't you worry about a thing. Ben and I are going to be fine. Great. Better than great."

She hoped.

Chloe rolled her eyes, then added with a squeeze, "I love you."

"I love you, too. Now get out of here and go have an umbrella drink for me."

The door closed, leaving behind a startled silence. Ben and Julia stared at the suddenly empty entry hall.

"Well," Julia said.

"Yep," Ben added. Then he nodded. "I'll go and ... unpack."

He really didn't seem like the go-to-his-room-and-unpack sort of guy. But the less time they spent

around each other, the better.

"Great, I'll go to the kitchen and ... do something."

She turned and headed away. She could feel his eyes on her back, the cool assessment. But she wasn't

about to be intimidated. She walked away with the provocative swish of a Playboy bunny, certain she

was turning his manly control to putty.

All she got for her efforts was a deep rumble of laughter that didn't stop ringing in her ears, even after he had disappeared into the east wing of the house.

Determined to concentrate on work, Julia poured herself a Coke, then returned to her new office. Her goal was to have a television show of some sort developed by the time Chloe and Sterling returned in a month.

She was proud of the way she'd handled the sale of KTEX and paid off her father's debts. She had done it, and done it well. She could create a show, too. Surely.

A shiver of concern raced down her spine. What kind of new, fresh, interesting show could she create? It seemed like everything was done to death. The more she tried to think of something new, fresh, and different, her brain locked down a little more. By the time she finished her soda, she had gotten no further along than scribbling a bunch of doodles on her notepad. She felt bored and antsy, and was dying to get out of there.

She thought of a million things that needed to be done around the house. She even gave a thought to doing some laundry. But procrastination didn't accomplish anything.

Though surely she should check on Ben, she reasoned. That was it! What kind of a hostess was she if she didn't check on her guest? A wounded guest at that.

She bolted out of the study with its book-lined walls and fine rugs. She fled the west wing, leaving behind the living room, dining room, kitchen, utility area, and three-car garage before she came into the high-ceiling entryway of marble and glass. A wall of stained glass separated the entry from the largest room in the house. Most of the time it was set up as another living room. But the furniture could be moved out, the carpets rolled up to reveal a glistening hardwood floor, and suddenly they had a ballroom.

The house was U-shaped, the foyer and ballroom forming the base of the U. On the other side of the entrance stood the long hall that lead back to the many bedrooms and an informal den. Heading down the carpeted hall, she found the guest room she had intended for Ben to use empty. Instead Sterling had put his brother in the room that connected to hers. The setup had been intended as a minisuite of sorts, two connected rooms that shared a bath. Definitely not the place she wanted Ben Prescott. But clearly Sterling wanted her to be close by the patient.

She felt a poignant tug at the thought that two brothers could have such a caring bond.

But the thought had barely flitted through her head when she tripped to a halt just outside the guest room doorway. She could see Ben standing next to the bed, using ironclad control to get his jacket off, then his shirt. The sight of his bare chest made her breath snag in her throat.

He was beautiful, like a statue, finely carved of smooth, bronzed skin over muscle. His shoulders were wide, his waist trim and washboard hard. Even after a week in the hospital, he was still amazing.

Gingerly, he lowered himself to sit on the edge of the bed as he tried to work off his pants. The grimace of pain brought her out of her reverie. Guilt pushed at sexual awareness.

Without a word or a knock, she opened the door wide like a grand dame entering stage right. "Why didn't you tell me you needed help?" He jerked his head up. "Because I don't need any," he bit out. What little niceness he had shown earlier was gone completely. "Just get out."

"That tone might send some weak-spined individuals running for the hills, but you forget who you're talking to." He actually groaned at this and hung his head. She had seen his brother do that a time or two when Chloe had done something particularly annoying.

"That's right. I'm Julia Boudreaux, a woman used to getting what she wants."

She went for his belt buckle.

He grabbed her hand.

His strength was solid but surprisingly gentle, considering he clearly didn't want her touching him.

"You're good at that, aren't you, cupcake?"

If he meant to embarrass her, he had the wrong girl.

"As a matter of fact, I am. And I will refrain from calling you beefcake again since it makes me cringe to

think the word, much less say it. Now get your hands out of the way. You don't have anything I haven't

seen before."

Though that wasn't altogether true, since she really had felt an astounding . . . piece of steel... in his 501s the day she had done her best to shock him when she pretended to play doctor. But she wasn't about to tell him that. She could just see the strut of arrogance that would cause.

His eyes narrowed and she was almost certain he growled.

"I can do it," he repeated.

She ignored him. "Let's start with your boots. We'll work up to the belt."

After a second, it was like he didn't have the energy left to fight, and he fell back on the mattress, his

boots still planted on the floor. She grabbed first one, tugged, ughed, then finally had to turn around and straddle his leg in order to remove it.

"Success!" she yelped, lurching forward in her stilettos when the boot came loose.

When she finally had both boots lined up against the wall, she was almost certain his face had broken out in a sweat.

Hmmm. Yet another bad sign. Nursing really didn't figure into her skill set.

"Let me get your jeans off."

"I can do the rest."

"Are you insane?"

He muttered, "I'll sleep in my pants."

She stepped back and smiled at him. "Isn't that sweet. Our hunky bad boy is shy."

"I'll show you shy."

It happened so fast that she barely had time to register what he was doing. By the time she had, she was