Tender Loving Care. Susan Mallery

when she’d helped him into the house. But there was no way to know the exact weight and contour of the feminine flesh.

      A hunger started deep within him. He’d been without a woman for far too long, and this sweet creature catering to his every need was a temptation hard to resist. If it wasn’t for the lessons in his past, he would have pulled her next to him and shown her that a man without eyes was still a man in every other sense of the word.

      He let her go.

      “Tell me about the accident.” The husky sound of her speech rubbed against his skin.

      “I had it out with a sandblasting machine. The machine won.”

      She continued to smooth the ointment onto his injured flesh. “I guess that’s how you got these burns.”

      He nodded. “The hose ripped and the guy holding it got pinned down. Like a fool, I raced in and pulled him free.”

      “Sounds brave to me.”

      He drew his lips together. “Maybe. But the construction worker was wearing goggles and a protective jacket. I was in a business suit. The hose shot me right in the face.”

      “And then you didn’t follow the doctor’s orders and landed in the hospital.” She finished her work and moved away.

      “Something like that.”

      He heard her walking around the room. Was she going to leave him? Being alone with the blackness wasn’t something he wanted to think about.

      “You must be pretty tired,” he said.

      Melissa looked up. Logan was sitting against the headboard, but there wasn’t anything relaxed about his pose. He’d suffered her changing his dressings without a fuss, but she knew he’d felt discomfort. The best thing for him would be to sleep through the night. Yet she didn’t want to leave him, and if her hunch was right, he didn’t want her to go.

      “Let me take the dishes to the kitchen, then I can come back and read to you.”

      The phone rang before he could respond.

      She picked up the receiver. “Phillips residence.”

      “Oh, totally cool, Melissa. I love the way you answer the phone. If a boy calls for me, could you call me Miss Wendi?”

      Melissa laughed. “I’ll see what I can do. You want to speak to your father?”

      “Yeah. Is he…okay?”

      “He’s fine. Here.”

      She handed Logan the phone and picked up the tray.

      “Hi, Wendi. I’m feeling great….”

      Melissa was still smiling when she returned to his room. “Everything all right?”

      “Wendi’s spending the night at her friend’s house. I think she’s scared I’m going to die in my sleep or something and she’d rather not be the one to find the body.”

      Melissa looked over the books resting on the floor by the nightstand. “I’ll reassure her in the morning. Don’t you have anything fun to read?”

      Logan turned toward her. “I read lots of fun books. Maybe you have no taste.”

      She read a title. “Architectural Morés in Ancient Byzantium? I don’t think so.”

      “Maybe you’d prefer one of Wendi’s rock star magazines.”

      Melissa plopped down on the floor and glared at him. A useless gesture but satisfying all the same. “Aren’t you just filled with wit and charm. Give a man a little food for his belly and suddenly he rules the world. Got any romances?”

      “Nope. Maybe there’s a science fiction.”

      “Ray guns and slimy monsters? Thanks, but no thanks. Here we go. The Macbeth Murders. I love a good mystery. That way if my patients really bug me, I can learn new and creative ways to bump them off.”

      “I like you, Melissa VanFleet.” He grinned at her. “You’re good at your job without making me feel like an invalid.”

      “What had you imagined a nurse to be? Someone in a starched uniform with a no-nonsense attitude?”

      “I never thought you’d have a sense of humor.”

      She tossed the book onto the bed and began measuring out his evening medicine. “They tried beating it out of me, unsuccessfully I might add. Here. These should help you sleep.”

      Logan took the pills without comment and downed them with a single gulp of water. “You could be poisoning me and I wouldn’t know.”

      “You’re perfectly safe.” Melissa walked around the bed and sat down on the far side of the mattress.

      “Why?”

      “I haven’t been paid yet.”

      “If I weren’t blind right now, I’d…”

      She pushed up a pillow behind her back and smiled at him. “Yes? What would you do.”

      He sighed. “I give. Just read, woman.”

      She opened the book. “Chapter one. It was a dark and stormy night….”

      Logan turned with a swiftness she hadn’t anticipated. She didn’t know if it was the perfume she wore or her voice or the fact that she was a woman and he had an unerring sense of direction, but even without the benefit of sight he managed to roll onto his side and pull the book from her fingers.

      “You’re pushing it, Melissa,” he growled playfully.

      The sheet had become twisted in his legs, leaving his chest bare. He didn’t move back. She was close enough to see the individual whiskers forming the darkness shading his jaw. After making a mental note that he’d need to be shaved in the morning, she stared at his mouth. Firm lips, curving in a slight smile, called out to be touched. Thank God, he couldn’t see what she was looking at. How could she have ever thought of his bedroom as safe?

      “Ah, is this your way of saying you want to do the reading?” she asked, struggling to keep her voice level.

      “No, it’s my way of saying you’re less in control than you think.”

      Logan was close to her. Even without seeing her, he could feel the warmth of her body next to his. They were alone in the house…stretched out on his bed. Now he knew why she’d resisted joining him there. It would be easy to…

      He shifted back to rest on his pillow. What was he thinking of? He didn’t know the first thing about Melissa. She might be uninterested or attached or…

      “Are you married?” he asked.

      “What?” She sounded startled by the question.

      “Are you married?”

      “No. Why?” The mattress dipped as she slid away.

      He shrugged, ignoring the unusual sensation of relief. It didn’t matter to him one way or the other, he told himself. He knew her type and she didn’t belong in his life, or—however tempting the prospect—his bed. “I was just thinking that if you were, your husband must hate you being gone so much.”

      “Well, I’m not, so it isn’t a problem. Now do you want me to read or is it time for a credit check?”

      “Temper, temper.” He handed her the book. “You may begin now.”

      She laughed. “Someone left you in charge for too long. It’s gone to your head.”

      “Read,” he commanded.

      She read.

      

      Melissa broke two more eggs into the bowl and began to beat the mixture. The big bay window overlooking the circular driveway let the morning light into the large rectangular kitchen. Blue-and-white