Home > Turbulent Waters (Billionaire Aviators #3)(7)

Turbulent Waters (Billionaire Aviators #3)(7)
Author: Melody Anne

“Yes, sorry. The fall startled me, that’s all,” she began, putting on her most professional smile―the do-not-touch-me smile that had always worked so well for her. “I’m Chloe Reynolds, your physical therapist,” she said. She tugged on her arm again.

He didn’t let her go, but he also didn’t scowl at her like she’d been hoping. If he was irritated, he’d lose interest. Instead, her reaction seemed to amuse him. A brilliant smile lit up his lips as raindrops slid down the side of her face, making her think of entwined, sweating, naked bodies.

She was shocked by where her mind had wandered. She never thought this way. She was busy with her career and her family, two things she wanted this man to have nothing to do with. She didn’t have time for men, and she really didn’t have time for sex. So why would she be thinking of it with this particular man?

“You’re a whole lot better looking than the last couple of therapists sent my way,” he told her. Unexpectedly, the compliment made her glow just a little.

“I don’t appreciate that. I’m here because of my qualifications,” she said to him.

He smiled even more. “Uncle Sherman sent you, right?” he said, his eyes not straying from hers.

“Yes, Sherman Armstrong hired me for six weeks of intensive home care. He said you’re impatient to get back to work, that you’re a pain-in-the-ass patient―his words, not mine—and that if I can stick it out, I’ll get paid triple.”

She might as well let him know right up front this was about work. It was more than obvious the man was attracted to her, which should have made her angry instead of light-headed. It was better if she let him know nothing unprofessional was going to happen. At least, not the sexy kind of unprofessional . . . She wasn’t here for that.

“Hmm, sounds about right,” he told her. “Of course, you’re not off to a very good start. I’m injured and you just crashed down on my lap.” The smile in his voice took away any sympathy she might have felt for him.

“I apologize for that. Let me check to make sure you’re okay. Maybe we can go inside,” she pointed out. The rain was blowing right under the porch roof. He didn’t seem to even notice.

“Yes, of course. Please come in.”

He expertly backed his wheelchair up and spread a welcoming arm before him in a sweeping gesture. With reluctance she followed him inside his monstrous house. No one needed so much space, she thought as she looked around at the wide hallways and modern furniture. It appeared as if some of it had been rearranged―most likely to help him get around the place more efficiently.

Even though the rooms were open and large, Chloe felt as if the walls were closing in on her. Nick in a wheelchair was a force to be reckoned with. She couldn’t imagine what he’d be like in full health. It was a good thing he would be locked away in jail by the time that point came.

“I get you all to myself for a full six weeks,” Nick said, and Chloe whipped around to see he was far too close to her. She needed to nip this flirting in the bud right away.

She gave him a derisive look. “I’m not interested,” she told him in her sternest voice.

His smile grew as he stared at her, not at all intimidated by her remark. Chloe found that she again wanted to retreat. Dammit. This was going all wrong.

“You know what, Chloe Reynolds, I think I like you,” he said, his grin in place, his eyes darkening and his chest pushing out the slightest bit. Though he was affecting her in a way she didn’t want to be affected, she’d rather be flung into the ocean than admit to it.

“You don’t know me,” she pointed out.

“Maybe I’d like to rectify that,” he said with a wink.

A shudder passed through her, and she sent him her harshest glare. He didn’t wither as intended. In fact, he didn’t seem to be turned off even a little bit. Even though she was being her snarkiest, he didn’t seem to mind. It appeared there was one part of his body that hadn’t been injured in the crash.

“Have I given you even the slightest indication that I want that to happen?” she said, putting her most librarian tone into her voice.

He didn’t even blink.

“Maybe,” he said.

“Back off,” she told him. “I’m a professional and I’m here to do a job―without the flirting.”

“Maybe you need to loosen up a bit and enjoy life,” he said.

Her back stiffened as she tried to pull herself under control. The last half hour or so had been more draining than she ever could have imagined. It was time for that retreat.

“Can you just tell me where my room is, please?” She decided the best option was to ignore the flirting, try to get him to open up to her about the crash, and tend to his wounds. But not until she had a few minutes to herself.

“I’ll do better than that, I’ll personally show you,” he told her. She caught the twinkle in his eyes. She didn’t want the man anywhere near where she’d be sleeping. She’d fought like hell not to have to stay at his house, but Sherman had insisted the therapy would be an all-day thing. He’d also insisted on having someone there in case Nick had problems at night.

Chloe had pointed out that she wasn’t a nurse. Of course, he’d called her on that. She’d been a nurse before she’d decided to go into physical therapy. That’s when he’d offered to triple the pay for a job well done. And Chloe had a lot of school debt the job would help pay off.

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