But it was his face that finally demanded her attention. He still hadn't shaved, and the stubble on his strong, square jaw was black as night, making him look like a disreputably handsome movie star.

Though it wasn't his matinee idol looks that caused concern. Ben was flushed with sweat, and he

groaned with strain as he struggled to change the bandage on his thigh. Then he collapsed with fatigue onto the top of the closed toilet.

She saw something in him that she never would have guessed possible in this man. A tremendous

weariness that appeared both physical and mental. This was beyond being unwilling to show that he was in pain, as she had concluded yesterday. Seeing him now when he thought he was alone, when he let his defenses down, she understood he needed more help than he was letting on. Ben Prescott was holding on, fighting to put up a brave front.

"Looks like I'm going to have to play nurse after all," she said quietly to herself.

There had never been a man in a bedroom who had intimidated her before. But a wounded bear in a bedroom gave her pause. She only hoped that she really didn't kill him as Chloe had feared.

Julia took a deep, fortifying breath. No one had to tell her Ben Prescott wasn't going to like her help

one bit.

But she wasn't about to let this prideful lout get worse on her watch. Especially when she needed him at

100 percent so she could feature him on her show. It never occurred to her that she couldn't get him to say yes eventually.

Marching to the bathroom, she knocked on the door frame.

She saw him flinch in the mirror, before their eyes caught and held in the silvered glass.

"Go away," he ordered.

She pushed the door open the rest of the way. "You keep forgetting that I don't scare easily."

"You should. I'm not some oversized pup dog that you can wrap around your little finger. I can do things

to you that would make you weep."

She looked at him through lowered lashes. "Promise?"

Ben grumbled. "Have you ever been intimidated in your life?"

About five seconds ago at the thought of having to play Nurse Nancy to a wounded bear. But she kept

that to herself.

"Can't think of a time. Now let me help you up." She grabbed his arm and he only half resisted. "You need to get in bed and I'll change the bandage."

"You are not going to change anything."

"Yeah, yeah, save it for one of those fluttering butterflies who've been calling you. They might be

impressed."

He grumbled the whole way, but there was no question she was bearing a good bit of his significant weight.

"I'll change the bandage, then you need to eat."

That, he didn't protest.

She got him to the mattress, where he dropped down with a groan of pain and a sigh of relief.

"Maybe eat first," he said, like he couldn't afford the energy of a complete sentence.

"Sure." He managed to get himself positioned against the backboard of the bed, before Julia set the tray over his lap. He didn't say a word for the entire first half of the sandwich, almost like he didn't take a breath. At the halfway mark he leaned his head back while he finished chewing, groaned, this time in some kind of pleasure, then swallowed. You'd think she hadn't fed him six hours earlier.

Julia stared at him in dumbfounded amazement. Growing up as an only child, and with her two best friends not having any brothers, other than her father, Julia hadn't been around all that many men in her life-at least not on a day to day basis. She went out with them, had stayed over more than once, but always left before breakfast. She wasn't one to get too involved in a man's life.

This-Ben eating-was all too . . . intimate. And the strength that seeped through him as the food began to sink in was disquieting. She liked him better weak and vulnerable. And now she was supposed to help change the bandage on his thigh.

She silently scoffed at her own weak-spined thoughts, could hardly believe she'd had them. He was a man like any other.

"I'm impressed, cupcake."

She jerked her mind into focus and raised her chin. "Impressed?" she asked with the utmost professionalism.

Ben moaned his disappointment. "That cupcake remark was supposed to get you all in a twist."

"You're trying to make me crazy?"

"Just trying to get rid of that look of horror you've got pulled across your face. Can't say I've seen that

particular expression when a woman was staring at my private parts." He chuckled.

"Amusing. I was thinking about the bandage."

"I guess that's some consolation," he teased.

"Are you done eating?" she asked when he took the last bite, sighed with contentment, and relaxed into

the pillows.

"Mmm, mmm, that was mighty fine. And yes, I'm done."

She whisked the tray away. "I'll be back in a minute."

"No hurry."

In the kitchen, she quickly set the lunch dishes aside, then returned to his room. While she was surprised

to find him sound asleep, she was thankful, too, since it would no doubt be easier to change the bandage

without him staring at her. Studying her. Accidentally brushing his arm against hers.

Retrieving the tape, gauze, hydrogen peroxide, and warm water compresses he had in the bathroom, she sat down gingerly on the side of the mattress. He murmured and burrowed deeper, but didn't wake.

With the tray gone and the man sleeping, she couldn't stop herself from looking at him. He really was handsome and extremely well built. His tanned chest had just the right amount of dark hair on it that disappeared beneath the waistband of his briefs. Despite the bandage, he was an incredible specimen of man.

Forgetting herself, not to mention forgetting her new determination to be a good girl, she reached out and touched the line of hair on his chest. The softness filled her senses. His skin was like lightly browned butter, smooth and perfect. And she traced the line of hair with a single fingernail. Lower, then lower.

Until she noticed the distinctive bulge in his Jockey shorts.

Her gaze flew up, only to find that Mr. Sleeping Beauty was no longer asleep.

She tried to make light of the situation. "I guess in this fairy tale, it doesn't take a kiss to wake someone

up."

He grabbed her wrist with surprising quickness.

Not a good sign.

"Unless you plan to do something about that," he said with a menacing grin as he nodded toward his

shorts, "I'd suggest you get the hell out of here."

She jerked away and leaped up, the bandage forgotten. "I'm going," she said, and she would have sworn

she felt a blush on her cheeks. It took a second before she realized what a good sign this was. Her.

Blushing.

Progress!

It was easier to think about that than face the fact that she really, really wanted to finish what she had

started. Her fingers itched to go lower.

With a smile plastered on her face, she bolted from the room and headed for the safety of the kitchen.

There she'd find something long, decadent, and delicious to satisfy this crazy desire.

She hoped like Hades she had some eclairs left.

To: Ben Prescott From: Diana Prescott Subject: Checking in

Ben, love! Just checking in to see how you are making out. Even if Mother isn't the over-motherly type, she worries. As do I. She's still not recovered from seeing you lying practically dead in a hospital bed in the farthest reaches of Texas. Who knew they really did have Wild West shoot-outs in... well, the Wild West.

But enough about you. Have I told you about my new condo? It's fabulous. Can you believe it, me on my own. As soon as you're well, you've got to at least make a trip home to see it.