Tender Loving Care. Susan Mallery

for us for almost five years and I’ve never even seen her in anything but her uniform.”

      Melissa smiled self-consciously. “I’ve got one up on Mrs. Dupuis,” she said as she turned to leave. “You’ve never seen me at all.”

      

      Melissa buttoned her cotton blouse and tucked it into her jeans. After giving her hair one more flick with the brush, she stepped out of the bathroom. The mirrored closet doors reflected her image, and she closed her eyes as she remembered the woman in the portrait.

      You’re a fool, she told herself firmly. Look at who his ex-wife is. So what if he was friendly and teasing? It didn’t mean a thing. Patients always came on to nurses; the story was as old as the profession itself. When his eyesight was better, he’d be off living his life, and she’d be off living hers.

      But last night, long after he’d drifted to sleep, she’d lain awake and relived the evening. And when she’d gone in to check on him, and he’d rolled over sleepily and called her by name, she’d allowed herself to dream. There were worse things to be than a fool.

      She opened her eyes and stared at her reflection. A short, plain woman stared back. Medium, just as she’d told Logan. Her short hair was baby fine and refused to hold a curl. The memory of Fiona’s long dark tresses made her want to scream in frustration. Enough, she said silently. No more feeling sorry for poor little me. I’ve a job to do and I’m going to do it. He’s the patient and I’m the nurse. And that’s the end of the story.

      Straightening her shoulders, she walked into Logan’s room.

      “…and then I’m going back over to Kelly’s. I wasn’t very good company last night. You don’t mind, do you?” Wendi glanced anxiously at her father.

      Pulling his daughter closer, he kissed the top of her head. “Of course not, sweetie. I’m just going to lie around all day and torment Melissa.” He turned swiftly in her direction and smiled.

      “How did you know I was here?”

      “Your perfume. What is it anyway?”

      She collected the tray of dirty dishes. “Magnolias.”

      “I thought so.” He stretched his arms up and yawned. The fabric of his robe gapped, exposing his chest.

      She felt her mouth go dry. “I’ll, ah, be in the kitchen, washing up the dishes. When I come back, we’ll see about getting you cleaned up.”

      Logan frowned. “There’s no way you’re going to give me a sponge bath, Melissa.”

      “Logan, you can’t…”

      The phone on the nightstand rang.

      “I’ll get it.” Wendi leaned over her father and picked up the receiver. “Hello.” She listened for a moment. “Hi, Mr. Anderson. Yeah, he’s right here. No, he looks good. And Melissa’s great. Okay, bye. Here, Dad. It’s Mr. Anderson.”

      “I gathered that. Good morning, John.”

      Wendi followed Melissa down the hall. “I’m going to try and sleep a little this morning, then Kelly and I are going to the movies.”

      Melissa put the tray on the counter and opened the dishwasher. “Are you going to be home for dinner?”

      “Are you cooking?”

      Her smile was so much like Logan’s that Melissa felt her heart skip a beat. “I could be convinced.”

      “All right! I’ll be back by six.” She ran out of the room and skidded around the corner, her long braid flying behind her. Snapping her fingers, she sang, “I’m just too cool for you, boy. Da da, oh yeah. I’m just…” The sound was abruptly cut off when her door slammed shut.

      

      The flowers started arriving at nine. By ten-thirty, half a dozen large bouquets filled Logan’s room. He’s been on and off the phone, fielding calls about various projects he was involved with.

      Melissa signed for a spray of perfect peach roses, then carried them into the bedroom. “Here’s another one from—”

      He jumped and the receiver went flying. She set the arrangement on the floor and picked up the phone, then folded his fingers around the plastic.

      “I’ll have to get back to you,” he growled, and hung up. He turned toward her. “Don’t ever do that to me.”

      The anger in his voice was like a blow. She placed the roses on the fireplace mantel. “I’m sorry I startled you. I didn’t know you were on the phone. I won’t interrupt again.”

      “Melissa.”

      She stood perfectly still, afraid to move, afraid to even breathe.

      “Answer me,” he said. “Are you still here?”

      “Yes, Logan. I’m right here.” She covered the space to the bed in three short steps. “What do you need?”

      He reached out his hand, palm up. The invitation could not be denied and she touched her fingers to his.

      “I’m sorry I snapped at you,” he said. “Would you do me a favor and take the flowers out of the room?”

      “Why?”

      Logan tugged on Melissa’s arm until she was forced to sit next to him. The warm pressure of her thigh against his was comforting…and arousing. The desire lapping at his loins was enough to make him feel lazy…and hungry…and male.

      “Because I can’t smell your perfume and I don’t know when you’re in the room.”

      “Oh.”

      “That’s it? No argument, Nurse VanFleet? Just ‘oh’?”

      “You’re the cranky one, not me.”

      He heard the smile in her voice. What did she look like? he wondered again. He’d always thought of himself as a visual person, but here he was being turned on by little more than a feminine voice and a gentle touch.

      Her hand rested against his, their fingers linked. It had been a long time…maybe too long. While his mind told him to resist the urge, his body clamored for more contact. Her perfume enticed him, erasing the last trace of common sense.

      Ah, the hell with it, he thought. They were both adults. His palms moved up her arms to rest on her shoulders; her hair was soft, the wispy ends tickled the backs of his hands.

      She shifted, but his fingers pressed down as he held her in place. The air around them became charged with an electric current.

      Melissa felt the subtle change in the room. What had started out friendly, even comforting, rapidly became erotic. Stand up, she told herself. If she stayed another second, she’d give in to temptation.

      She stared at his face, searching for a clue to what he was thinking. The lines of his jaw were taut, his lips pulled straight in a firm line, but neither told her anything.

      Then his hands began to move toward her face, tracing random patterns on her neck. He wanted her, she thought with relief and anticipation. She started to lean forward, then stopped. No, that wasn’t quite correct. He wanted a woman and she was the only one around.

      “Say something,” he commanded, pulling her toward him.

      “Logan, let me go….”

      He silenced her with a kiss. Those lips that she’d been admiring now brushed against hers. The touch wasn’t the hungry assault she’d have expected from a man like him, but a tender exploration. Moving from one corner to the other, he made sure every millimeter of her mouth was equally caressed, tasted, savored. Comfort and contact with another person, she told herself. That’s all he was interested in. Yet the logical explanation didn’t keep her from reacting to his ministration. Her heart pounded in her ears.

      Bracing his weight on one arm,