Slow Burn by Graham Heather

Author:Graham, Heather [Graham, Heather]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Harlequin Enterprises
Published: 2008-11-12T05:00:00+00:00

11

Spencer realized after a moment that her butt was facing the pool. Her bare butt.

She spun around, praying there were no gardeners on duty and that Henri wasn’t checking out the patio. The lush trees surrounding the property bowed and dipped in the breeze. The crystal clear water of the pool rippled in the lazily fading sunlight. There was no one in sight.

Spencer fled into her room, closing the doors to the balcony behind her. She dropped the soaking robe into the tub and grabbed a dry towel. Then she dropped that, as well, and leaped into the shower, not moving as she let a cascade of water plummet over her. Cool water. Water to soothe her wounded soul.

When she finished showering, she shrugged into jeans and a big fluffy sweater. Restless, she combed through her wet hair, played with her makeup, then stepped out on the balcony again.

She could hear him—still swearing in Spanish. He couldn’t still be going on about her, could he?

She took a step toward his room. Well, she wasn’t in a towel and he wasn’t in the bathroom. He was standing in front of the antique dresser mirror, staring at his back.

“Is there a problem?” she inquired lightly.

The swearing stopped. He spun around. He was dressed in jeans, as well, his feet and chest still bare.

He stared at her. “Yeah, there’s a problem. Come in here.”

“Come in here?” she said, repeating his tone.

“Come in here, please,” he said.

She walked in, and he turned around. For the first time she noticed a thin ribbon of blood running down his back. “You’re hurt!” she said.

“I know that. There’s a sliver of metal caught there. I didn’t even notice it until my back started rubbing against the tub. You can be a hazard.”

She froze. “You mean that—” she began, than broke off. Of course that was what he meant.

“You’re a big boy!” she reminded him softly. “I didn’t exactly force you at gunpoint.”

“No, Spencer, you just like to seduce a man—then slam him on the head for being seduced.”

“I repeat, you’re a big boy. And one who had better be careful,” she warned. “If you want my help.”

“Just get in here and see what you can do.”

“Come in and sit on the commode. The light is better there.”

A moment later he was seated and she was dabbing at his back with a peroxide-soaked piece of gauze while she tried to get a good grasp on the sliver that had pierced his flesh.

“Ouch!” he persisted. “Quit digging.”

“I have to dig.”

“Do it more carefully.”

“If you’d quit bleeding, it wouldn’t be so slippery.”

“I’m so sorry!”

“If you’d sit still…”

She got the piece of metal. Got a good grip. Just as it came free, there was a thunderous pounding on the hallway door, and then it burst open. “David, Spencer, oh, dear Lord, where are you?”

Joe Montgomery, perfect silver hair mussed and blue eyes wild, appeared in the bathroom doorway. He looked as if he was about to encompass Spencer in a protective hug, but then he saw the blood on David’s back.

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