Holly And Mistletoe. Susan Mallery

glad I went over the side.” His gaze brushed across her face. “What happened to your hair?”

      “My hair?” She reached behind her head and touched her braid. “Nothing. I’m wearing it back.”

      “Let me see.”

      She half turned in her seat and tilted her head so he could see the French braid. She’d pinned the end up by the nape of her neck to form a loop.

      “I like it loose,” he said. “You’ve got beautiful hair.”

      “Oh.” She blinked. “Ah, thank you.”

      Had he just paid her a compliment? Holly figured he had. Why? Is that what men and women did? Was he flirting? No. Not with her. She wasn’t his type. Actually she didn’t know what his type would be, but she was pretty sure she was the furthest female from it. He was injured, that was all. Or possibly delirious.

      She cleared her throat and wished she’d had more experience with this kind of situation. The problem was she’d never spent any time with a man and his bare chest before.

      “I brought cookies,” she said. “They’re from the bakery. I don’t have a working kitchen yet, but when I do, I’ll make something from scratch. That is, if it wouldn’t be too inconvenient.”

      “I think I can handle the inconvenience of you baking me something,” he said, then smiled.

      The smile caught her unaware. Lines crinkled by his dark eyes. His teeth were white, and his handsome face became almost painfully beautiful. Everything inside her bubbled so much, she thought she might start floating around the room. Wow. She needed to get out more.

      “I’m pretty hungry,” he said. “Would you mind bringing me a couple of those cookies now? I’d get them myself, but I’m—” He motioned to the sheets.

      “Naked,” she said without thinking.

      “What? No. I’m not supposed to get up for a couple of days. I’m not naked.”

      Naked? Had she actually said naked? Holly covered her face with her hands and made a whimpering noise. “No,” she said. “I didn’t mean…That is, I…”

      “Holly?”

      He said her name softly. She thought about just running from the room, but her legs were too shaky to cooperate. “I didn’t mean that,” she murmured. “Louise said for me to tell you to put some clothes on, so I just sort of thought—”

      “It’s okay.”

      She risked sliding her hands down so they just covered her mouth, then she glanced at him. He wasn’t smiling, but he didn’t look mad. She breathed a sigh of relief and dropped her hands to her lap. “Sorry. Look, I’ll go get those cookies for you.”

      She rose to her feet and reminded herself of his injuries, which were, indirectly, her fault. Act like a nurse, she told herself. She knew how.

      “Are you on any medication?” she asked. “Pills you have to take with food?”

      “Nope.”

      She thought about testing for fever but knew she couldn’t disconnect enough to touch his forehead without swooning. She consoled herself with the thought that he didn’t look hot.

      She fought a giggle. Okay, yes, he looked hot, but sexy hot, not fever hot.

      Her body continued to tremble, but she tried to ignore it. After taking a couple of steps toward the door, she paused. “I’m a pretty good cook,” she said, not looking at him but instead staring at the library in front of her. “If you don’t like what Louise prepared for dinner, I could make something else.” She swallowed. “No, it’s a dumb idea. Never mind.”

      Just as well. She had to get out of his house before she embarrassed herself again. She wanted to tell Jordan it wasn’t her fault. Except for a couple of her mother’s doctors, she’d never spent any time around men. They were as foreign to her as space aliens.

      “I’d like that very much,” he said.

      She whirled around to face him. “You would?”

      “Sounds great. But only if you keep me company. I’ve been home for two days without anyone to talk to. I’m about to go crazy.” Then he gave her that smile again.

      Despite the shaking and the way her heart was slamming against her ribs, she forced herself to smile back. “Okay. I’ll make something fast.”

      “I can’t wait.”

      Holly didn’t remember leaving the room or walking through the library and down the hall. The next thing she knew, she practically floated into the kitchen. Louise was leaning against the sink. She raised her blond eyebrows.

      “Well?” the older woman asked.

      “I offered to cook him something, and he said yes.”

      Louise shook her head. “He’s the most stubborn man I’ve ever met. You’re welcome to him.” She walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out two steaks.

      Holly eyed the meat. “Can he really eat that much?”

      Louise grinned. “Only one of them is for him. The other is for you. I heard your stomach growling. You’ve been at work all day, haven’t you? Barely stopped for lunch.”

      Holly thought of the half sandwich she’d never had time to get back to. It had been a busy afternoon. Still, she would much rather be busy and go without food than sit alone in an empty store, wishing for customers.

      Before she could comment, Louise continued, “I know what it’s like to be young. Thinking about everything but being healthy.” She opened the refrigerator and pointed to the bottom bin. “There’s plenty of fresh vegetables. He likes them steamed. Of course, not when I steam them.”

      “Why doesn’t he like you?” Holly asked.

      The housekeeper shrugged. She crossed the worn linoleum floor and grabbed a denim jacket hanging from a hook by the back door. “I don’t know. He’s always been this way. I’ve been working on and off for the Haynes family for years. There’s four brothers, five if you count Austin, who isn’t technically family but might as well be. I’ve helped when they’ve had new babies, cooked for the bachelors, nursed them through illness—” she tilted her head toward the study “—and injury.” She smiled. “They’re a wonderful group of people. Except that one.”

      “Then why are you here?”

      Louise slipped on her jacket. There was a backpack on a second hook. She reached for that and slung it over her shoulder. “Because I care about the family. I told them I would look after him, and the good Lord willing, I’ll survive. But that Jordan has a chip on his shoulder. Don’t ask me why. He’s never said, and I haven’t bothered to ask. Maybe I will one of these days.”

      Louise opened the back door. “My class starts at seven. I’ll be home around ten-thirty.”

      “Oh, I’ll be long gone,” Holly said. “I’m just going to cook his dinner, then leave.”

      “I appreciate this. I would have gone to my class no matter what, but I would have spent the whole time feeling guilty.” Louise gave a quick grin, then left.

      Holly turned to the old-fashioned kitchen and realized she hadn’t asked where anything was. She was going to have to fumble around to find pots and pans. She didn’t really mind. She was in one of the beautiful Victorian mansions she’d admired since coming to town. Jordan Haynes might not get along with his housekeeper, but Holly thought he was nice. Best of all, she was taking the first step in repaying her debt to him.

      

      Jordan watched Holly carrying in a laden tray. She’d found an apron and slipped it over the white frilly blouse and long, soft-looking blue skirt she wore. Her wide eyes shone with excitement, and her mouth quivered on the verge of smiling.