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Stepping out of the dress, she stood facing him in a plain silk shift. ‘I hate to ask, but do you have a jumper I could borrow?’

As she turned her big blue eyes on him it took him a moment to refocus. ‘A jumper?’ Anything of his would trail on the ground if she wore it. With her bare feet and bedraggled appearance she looked like a waif…Cinderella. And he was no Prince Charming. He was already regretting his decision to let her in. What business had he allowing someone so young and vulnerable into his life?

‘An old sweater…anything,’ she pressed him.

He grimaced as she held out the discarded wedding dress. ‘I’ll get you a dustbin bag.’ Seeing her eyes fill with tears, he could have kicked himself for the careless choice of words. He brought the bag anyway, and opened it. It took her ages to fold and lower the discarded gown into it as he held it out. He could only guess at the distress she must be feeling, but by the time she had laid the twinkly thing and veil on top of the dress he had to admit to a flare of irritation. If it all meant so much to her, why had she bolted from her wedding? He was so busy feeling an emotion unsettlingly close to jealousy he forgot to hide his injury.

‘Oh, no, you’re bleeding,’ she exclaimed, staring at his hand.

‘What?’ He feigned indifference.

‘Let me help you. It’s the least I can do.’

He shrugged. She liked to help. And he needed help. And not just with his hand. He glanced around at the mess, but then, deciding she’d been through enough for one day, he killed the idea. ‘Don’t worry about the cut—it’s nothing.’

‘You should clean it. No, come here and I’ll clean it for you—’

‘You?’ He gave a half-grin of surprise as she walked to the sink. She had seemed so fragile up to that point.

‘I’m a nurse—’

‘A nurse?’

Now he really did sound interested. And she really did need a job. With accommodation, if possible, Liv remembered as her sensible gene kicked in. She quickly pressed home her advantage. ‘Fully trained.’

As Cade continued to look at her with interest she could feel her face firing up. He was so much bigger, taller, and sexier than a thirty-six-inch television screen would allow. And it was hard—make that impossible—to stop staring at him. And what was it about a woman’s eye line that drew it to the area below a man’s belt? She quickly adjusted her gaze to his feet—XL; clad in no-nonsense army boots. No. No! She definitely wasn’t going there! ‘Your hand?’ she said, reaching out to inspect the damage.

‘I told you, it’s nothing.’

As they faced each other she caught sight of their reflections in the mirror, and for the first time that day she felt like laughing. Their jaws were jutting out at exactly the same stubborn angle—though she doubted Cade’s insides were trembling. ‘I need to clean that wound,’ she told him firmly. ‘Come on.’

He hesitated. He was accustomed to being in command, and he didn’t like this new feeling. He felt even more unsettled when Liv gave him a smile of such angelic sweetness it made his insides dance a rumba; a slow, insistent rumba that made it necessary to turn his back on her to ease the tension.

‘If you can’t bring yourself to let a mere woman help you,’ she said wryly, ‘how about I sort out your hand in exchange for a jumper?’

He relented. ‘Done.’ His interest was firing on all cylinders. Liv might have taken a knock today, but she was far from out for the count. ‘On one condition.’

‘Which is?’

‘While I find you something to wear, you have to sit down at that table and work out a CV. Unless you brought one with you, of course?’

Her cheeks pinked as he reached for pen and paper. ‘Are you serious?’

‘Yes, I’m serious.’ Why not? In spite of the bizarre circumstances of Liv’s arrival, he liked what he saw, and his earlier black mood had eased the moment she’d walked through the door.

The glint that appeared in Cade’s eyes made parts of her untouched by man wake up. With so much testosterone curling round her it was hardly a surprise. And as he raked his thick, dark hair she had to remind herself she was a virgin who had held out so long she’d lost the urge.

Oh, really? her inner voice demanded. Cade had provoked some strong magic in her pelvic region, if that truly were the case.

Assembling her face in a prim expression, she held out her hand ready to make her inspection. She couldn’t risk losing what little aura of professionalism she had left now he’d given her the chance to apply for the job. She braced herself in readiness to take his hand. It was a big, strong hand, tanned…endowed with who knew what sort of experience. As the long, lean fingers rested on hers it was a battle to concentrate on the injury…a nasty cut, but fortunately not one requiring stitches. ‘Hold your hand under the tap for me.’

‘Like this?’ Cade pressed against her at the sink.

She hummed assent, struggling to keep her thoughts in line as her body responded to him, culminating in a pulse of shimmering sensation between her legs. ‘Does accommodation come with the job?’ She was determined to keep her mind on exactly that.

‘For the successful candidate I might go as far as throwing in a sweater.’

How was she supposed to concentrate when Cade was making it impossible to do so? And did his voice have to be quite so intimate, as if they’d known each other for ever? Still feeling delicious twinges down below, she let go of his hand. ‘Disinfectant?’

‘Under the sink. Or there’s some iodine in that drawer over there.’

‘Iodine…’A sharp sting would soon bring him into line.

She felt Cade’s keen-eyed stare following her across the kitchen. He was lean and wired, his body-hugging top revealing a band of rock-hard belly. She might be determined to keep this on a business footing, but there was no denying Cade Grant was a feast of wicked thoughts rolled into one hot man. ‘This drawer?’ Opening it, she slammed it shut again on several boxes of condoms.

Now she was flustered. Now a pink stain had appeared on her cheeks. He was enjoying this. ‘Okay, not that drawer, the one next to it.’

Typical man—he didn’t have a clue where anything was. She found the iodine, closed the drawer and turned round to face him. ‘And the plasters are here.’ She reached for the tin, which he could now see was hidden behind the taps.

‘Well, I’ll be…’ He could only be impressed by her swift recovery—though he did wonder at the rapid rise and fall of her breasts beneath the fine silk slip. ‘So that’s where they got to.’ He acted innocent as she gave him a reprimanding look.

CHAPTER TWO

LIV tried to make a start on the CV, but it was impossible to concentrate while a rugged army officer prowled about the kitchen watching her. ‘If you could just sit down, I might be able to concentrate.’

‘That’s a very bossy instruction coming from a woman with bare feet dressed in her underwear.’

Liv’s short-lived confidence drained away. Practical matters she could deal with, but when the spotlight was turned on her sexuality…She rallied determinedly. ‘Do you want me to apply for this job, or not?’ Her gaze was drawn to Cade’s lips…to his scarred, firm, mobile lips. She forced herself to look away. She could not allow him to guess how badly she needed this job, or how insanely she wanted him to kiss her. ‘Just keep still for a minute or two, please.’ She could feel his gaze warming her face as she bent her head back to the task.

‘Any more instructions?’

‘Not as yet.’

‘Perhaps I should bring up your obsession with discipline at your interview.’

She didn’t dare look up. ‘You should cover everything you think relevant.’

‘Don’t worry, I intend to…’

While her heart tried to beat its way out of her chest, Cade narrowed his steel-grey eyes to stare at her. He had incredible eyes that seemed to reach deep inside her. He was an incredible man. She hadn’t known what to expect when she’d hammered on his door, but it wasn?

?t this hard man with muscles and a tan, and shoulders wide enough to hoist an ox…a man who smelled so good she had to fight the urge to forget the CV and simply close her eyes and inhale deeply…

‘You don’t seem to have made much progress,’ he observed, glancing at the blank sheet in front of her.

‘I’m forming the phrases in my head first.’ When I’m not imagining how it would feel to have your stubble rasping against my neck…

‘You are going to write something down?’ Cade prompted.

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