Fit To Be Tied: Fit To Be Tied / The Lyon's Den. Carol Finch
New admiration for Jessica dawned when he realized that she had made the remodeling improvements herself. The lady wasn’t exaggerating when she said she was accustomed to taking care of things herself.
When he ambled into the kitchen to locate an improvised ice pack for Jessica’s swollen ankle, he noticed the shiny new oak cabinets and Formica counter. Yup, Jessica was surrounding herself with modern conveniences and luxuries. He was impressed by her good taste and her willingness to work. This old house was coming back to life, thanks to her improvements.
Devlin rummaged through the drawer to locate a plastic bag, then filled it with ice. “Here we go,” he said as he sailed into the living room. “I really like what you’ve done with the place.”
“Thanks.” Jessica grimaced when he placed the ice pack on her aching ankle. “I haven’t had time to refurbish the upstairs yet, because it’s taking a lot of time to get my accounting business established. I’m hoping to strip that atrocious wallpaper, then texture the walls in the bedrooms. I’m not too confident of my plumbing skills, so I’ll probably hire someone to redo the two bathrooms.”
“If you need help, my brother and I take on construction and carpentry projects when farming and ranching chores slow down in the winter.”
“You do?” Jessica peered at Devlin, startled by the various facets she had learned about the man in the course of an hour. She’d discovered that he had a dry sense of humor, that he could be gentle and compassionate and that he obviously didn’t hold a grudge, even if he was quick to temper.
“Yes, we do,” Devlin affirmed. “We remodeled those apartments on First Street two winters ago and replaced all the appliances.”
“That’s where my secretary lives,” Jessica said, shifting to a more comfortable position. “I’ve seen Teresa’s apartment. You do good work.”
“Thanks.” Devlin glanced over his shoulder. “If you’ll point me toward the bathroom I’ll get some antiseptic and bandages for your hands and knees. You might want to remove those shredded panty hose while I’m gone.”
Jessica looked at the mutilated stockings and smudged skirt. Lord, she looked like road kill. “Um…would you bring my robe from the upstairs bathroom? I’d like to get out of these wet clothes.”
“Coming right up.” Devlin climbed the stairs and entered the bathroom, noting the organized array of feminine upkeep. The room had yet to be remodeled. Jessica was going to have one hell of a time getting into the old cast-iron bathtub without putting pressure on her ankle. She needed a modernized shower.
In the medicine cabinet Devlin found the antiseptic and bandages. He glanced around to see the flimsy nylon robe that definitely wouldn’t be thick enough to conceal what he was sure was a curvaceous feminine figure.
Devlin clutched the robe and swallowed uneasily, then reminded himself that he was here in the capacity of a caregiver. That’s where his attentions were supposed to stop—and he better not forget that.
4
ON HIS RETURN TRIP down the hall Devlin spotted a handmade quilt at the end of the twin bed in a small bedroom. He scooped it up, then made his way downstairs to the living room.
“Okay, Jess, let’s doctor those knees….” Devlin stumbled to a halt and stared at about a mile of long, shapely bare legs.
Quickly, he shifted his attention to the alluring face that was surrounded by spring-loaded blond curls. Suddenly Jessica looked about fifteen years old—which made his lusty thoughts seem all the more inappropriate. He should not be feeling what he was feeling right now, shouldn’t be wanting what he was beginning to want quite desperately. Hell! He’d found Jess all too attractive when he didn’t like her. Now that he was warming to her, he couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off her.
“Dev? Is something wrong?” she asked when he stood there staring at her.
“Yeah, you could say that.” Devlin sank down on the edge of the couch, then opened the bottle of antiseptic. “You’re too damned attractive for me not to notice.” Before she got huffy, he rushed on. “Now don’t get mad at me the way you usually do, because there are some things in life that can’t be changed. A man’s instinctive reaction to a beautiful woman is one of them.”
When she lay there gaping at him as if he’d sprouted antlers, Devlin muttered under his breath. “Come on, Blondie, don’t look at me like you don’t know what a bombshell you are.” To conceal his discomfort about blurting out the comment—something he had a bad habit of doing—Devlin dabbed antiseptic on her knee.
“Geez!” Jessica wailed when the stinging sensations blazed across her kneecap. Her breath evaporated when Devlin bent forward to blow on the sting and inadvertently blew his warm breath on her thigh. She could feel the blush working its way up her chest and neck to stain her cheeks. When she glanced up to meet those onyx-colored eyes, her heart stalled out. She watched a rakish grin glide across his sensuous lips as he blew on her knees again. Chills of carnal delight rippled to her very core.
“Better?” he asked in a husky voice.
She frowned darkly. “Hardly, and you damn well know it.”
Devlin chuckled as he peeled open the wrapper on the bandages. “Okay, so that was a cheap trick to find out if you are half as aware of me as I am of you.”
“I’m aware, all right,” she admitted grudgingly. “I’m just lousy at being as direct as you are.”
“Yeah, well, my brother is all the time nagging me to be more tactful. We may bear a strong resemblance, but he’s the one with the charming diplomacy. At least he says he is. He’s never been all that diplomatic and charming around me.”
“I like direct,” she said softly. “At least I know where I stand.”
“Spoken like a woman who had a love affair that went south in a hurry,” he remarked.
Jessica jerked up her head. “And she doesn’t want to talk about it, so don’t ask.”
He shrugged those impossibly broad shoulders. His wet shirt accentuated rock-solid muscles and a washboard belly. Jessica tried exceptionally hard not to notice.
“That’s fine by me. I don’t want to talk about Sandi Saxon, the two-timing vamp who dumped me on her way up the social ladder so she could kick the dust of Buzzard’s Grove off her heels and land a sophisticated lawyer, either. It’s tough being left behind in a small town, hurt and humiliated, knowing your friends and acquaintances are discussing your personal disaster behind your back.”
“The woman must’ve been an absolute idiot.”
Devlin did a double take. “You don’t like me, yet you’re siding with me?”
It took a lot of gumption for Jessica to admit her feelings for him, since she had kept her emotions locked away most of her life. It was like sliding onto an operating table, prepped for open-heart surgery. Furthermore, she had learned not to let her affection show for fear it would be used against her.
“I like you fine, Callahan,” she said awkwardly. “That’s the problem. You happen to be devastatingly attractive, as if you don’t know. So was the ten-timing Don Juan who used my heart as a doormat. If I’ve been hard on you, don’t take it personally. It was unfair of me to transfer my disgust with Rex Cranfill to you.”
Devlin braced his arms on either side of her shoulders and leaned down to press his lips to hers in a light, butterfly kiss. But it wasn’t enough. Before he realized what he was doing he had deepened the kiss, plundered her mouth, as if he were starving to death for a taste of her—which he guessed he was and just refused to admit it to himself.
Sensations spiraled through him, giving him one hell of a head rush. He felt his arms contracting, pulling her closer. Devlin forced himself to back off and sit upright before he did something stupid, like running his