The Devaney Brothers: Michael and Patrick: Michael's Discovery. Sherryl Woods
touches were a little—okay, a lot—less impersonal.
“How do you do it?” he asked finally when it felt as if he might explode if she stroked her hands over his thigh one more time. He’d spent the past few weeks trying to hide the fact that he was in a perpetual state of arousal when she was around and it was beginning to get to him.
“Do what?” she asked, sounding oddly distant.
“The massage thing.”
“I took classes.”
He glanced back over his shoulder and frowned. “Not what I meant, and you know it.”
She met his gaze, then looked hastily away, her cheeks suddenly rosy.
“Doesn’t it bother you?” he persisted.
“It’s my job,” she said, her tone as prim as someone’s elderly maiden aunt. “You’re a client.”
“I’m also a man,” he reminded her. Some wicked instinct had him rolling over to prove the point. He was thoroughly aroused...and that was despite a concerted attempt to remain completely disconnected from the massage.
Kelly’s attention was immediately drawn to the evidence. She swallowed hard, then deliberately looked away. Michael tried to gauge her reaction. It had almost seemed as if she was more fascinated—maybe even secretly pleased—than embarrassed. Maybe she wasn’t as immune as he’d thought.
“Look, I...” Her words dwindled off.
He reached out and clasped her hand in his. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I really don’t. Actually, I was curious about how you remain detached from what you’re doing.”
She met his gaze. “The truth?”
“Of course.”
“The issue has never really come up before.”
“Before?” he repeated, a certain measure of gloating creeping into his voice. “Meaning it has with me? You aren’t unaffected by touching me?”
She pulled away. “Don’t sound so blasted pleased with yourself. We really shouldn’t be having this conversation. It’s inappropriate and totally unprofessional on my part. Besides, we had an agreement.”
She was so clearly dismayed that he instantly backed off. Besides, he had the answer he wanted. The attraction wasn’t as one-sided as he’d imagined. Satisfied with that knowledge, he rolled back on his stomach and rested his head on his arms. “I’ll drop it, then,” he murmured.
“Thank you.”
“But don’t be surprised if it comes up again tomorrow night when you’re not on the clock.”
Her hands on his leg stilled. “Michael!” she protested weakly.
“Kelly!” he responded, teasing.
She sighed heavily. “What am I going to do about you?”
“An intriguing question,” he told her. “Let’s put that on the agenda for tomorrow night, too.”
“You realize if these topics come up tomorrow night, we might never actually make it to the pub?”
He hid his grin. “Definitely an added bonus,” he conceded.
She smacked his uninjured leg. “Forget it, Devaney. I’m not providing you with an excuse to get out of introducing your families to each other.”
“Oh, well, it was worth a try,” he said with an air of resignation.
And getting Kelly to admit that she was not oblivious to the effects of these massages had definitely been a side benefit. Of course, it was also likely to fuel his own fantasies so that he wouldn’t get a minute’s rest between tonight and tomorrow. He figured the sacrifice of a little sleep was worth it.
* * *
Kelly was a nervous wreck on Friday night. She told herself she was worried for Michael’s sake, that she merely wanted everything to go well, but it was more than that. The entire conversation they’d had about the impact of her massages on him had been disconcerting at best. His assurance that he intended to get into the subject again tonight the instant they were alone had her feeling edgy with anticipation of an entirely different sort.
She had been stunned when he’d revealed that he was thoroughly aroused. Stunned and, she was willing to admit, thrilled that she could have that kind of impact on a man she’d been convinced didn’t think of her as a woman at all. There was little question now that Michael saw her as a desirable grown-up, not a kid. But what would he do about it? Would he do the noble thing and ignore it because of his friendship with her brother and her role as his therapist? She hoped not. She’d been waiting far too long for him to notice her.
Of course, that wistful thought lasted only the length of time it took to say “lost license.” She could just imagine what Moira would have to say if Kelly revealed that there was anything the least bit provocative about her contact with a client.
She should get a grip, she told herself sternly, and tell Michael he had to do the same. Or she should quit. One or the other. She certainly couldn’t let things continue as they had been, not if she valued her professional reputation.
But the prospect of not seeing Michael on a regular basis was inconceivable. He’d come to mean too much to her. Her childish infatuation was developing into something far more important. Something she had to ignore, though, if she wanted to see him through his rehabilitation. And she did want that. She wanted to be there when his leg was strong and he was finally able to walk again. Which meant she was going to have to push her personal feelings for him aside and pretend they didn’t exist, no matter how badly he tormented her.
When she arrived Friday night to pick him up, he was dutifully waiting for her outside, despite the fact that the temperature had dropped and there was a threat of snow in the damp air.
“Are you crazy?” she demanded as she got out to open the door and help him into the car. “Why didn’t you wait inside?”
“You told me six-fifteen and that I wasn’t to dillydally,” he reminded her.
“And you always do what I say?”
He gave her his most winning smile, the one that made her heart flip over. “I try.”
Kelly noticed that he was able to transfer himself to the car a bit more easily than he could the previous weekend. He was actually able to put a little weight on his bad leg. When he was settled, she put the wheelchair in the back, then got back behind the wheel and glanced over at him.
“You ready?”
“No.”
She grinned at his sour expression. “Too bad.”
“We could run away to the Caribbean. Spend a month or two in the sun getting a tan,” he suggested, regarding her seriously. “My treat.”
“As much as the possibility of spending a few days on a beach where the temperature is at least fifty degrees warmer than it is here appeals to me, I’m afraid I’ll have to say no to that, too.”
“You’re no fun,” he accused.
His words, clearly spoken in jest, hit a raw nerve. “So I’ve been told,” she said, unable to keep the old hurt out of her voice.
Her response clearly startled him. His gaze narrowed. “What idiot said a thing like that?”
“The last man I dated.”
Something in his expression turned dark and dangerous. “He hurt you, didn’t he?”
“Well, it’s never pleasant being told that one is a bore,” she said, trying to make light of it.
It wasn’t that Phil Cavanaugh had devastated her. She hadn’t cared enough about him for his opinion to matter that much, but she had been