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But she couldn’t. She needed something productive to do before her hormones mutinied against her common sense and caused her to do something really stupid.
She stood and hurried to the kitchen, thinking of how ironic it was that she had brought Bryan to her apartment because she thought he needed someone to take care of him. Turned out that Bryan Falcon was just as hard to handle injured as he was in perfect health.
Chapter Eight
Bryan wouldn’t have admitted it to Grace for anything, of course, but his arm hurt like the devil. The burns weren’t serious—he’d scorched off the hair and a thin layer of skin—but the abused nerve endings had been punishing him in throbbing waves all afternoon. Especially now that the painkiller had worn off.
The doctor had instructed him to keep the wound clean and dry, and to see his own physician for further care instructions. He had added that the burns were mostly superficial and shouldn’t cause any long-term effects. Grace was making too much of the incident, actually, but he couldn’t say he disliked being the focus of her solicitude—as endearingly awkward as she was in offering it.
This newest glimpse into her past—her long-ago attraction to the local “bad boy”—intrigued him, as so much about her did. The more time he spent with Grace, the more he became aware that there were many layers to her, some of them hidden so deeply beneath the surface that it would take persistence and determination for anyone else to uncover them.
Funny. When he’d first met her, he had thought of her as a slightly more acerbic version of Chloe. Now he understood just how erroneous that impression had been.
He admired Chloe a great deal. She was intelligent, witty, kindhearted, competent and serene. A pleasure to be around. She would make his sometimes difficult friend Donovan very happy.
As for her twin—Grace was more complex in some ways than Chloe. Moodier, more reserved, more suspicious—traits that had initially taken him aback, but now made him more interested in learning everything about her. He was curious how a woman so similar to Chloe in appearance, raised at the same time by the same parents, could turn out so differently. It could possibly take years to fully decipher the puzzle that was Grace. Maybe a lifetime.
That errant thought made him clear his throat as she came back into the room carrying a glass of water. Damn, she looked good in those shorts. And now that he knew exactly how silky her long, shapely legs felt, he couldn’t wait to get his hands on them again.
She held out one hand to him, revealing two white pills in her palm. “Take these.”
“I’ll take one of them. You can put the other back in the container.”
“You’re supposed to take two.”
“I don’t like that fuzzy-head feeling. And it doesn’t hurt that badly, anyway.”
“But…”
He settled the issue by plucking one of the pills from her hand and popping it into his mouth. Taking the glass of water, he washed the pill down. “There,” he said, lowering the glass. “That should do it.”
She shook her head, but didn’t try to insist that he take the second pill. A
fter returning it to the container, she stood at the end of the couch, looking as if she wasn’t quite sure what to do next. “Would you like me to call one of your people to drive you home?”
“My people?” he repeated, amused by her wording.
“Should I have said one of your minions?”
“Cute. But, no, I don’t need one of my ‘minions’ at the moment. I can drive myself home when I’m ready.”
“You aren’t supposed to drive or operate heavy equipment while you’re taking those pills.”
“I’m not planning to use a forklift this evening. I’m just driving home, which is only a few miles from here, I should point out. I would be on the road for all of ten or fifteen minutes.”
“That’s plenty of time to get into an accident and hurt yourself…or someone else. At least let me call Jason or someone to give you a lift.”
“Jason is my security officer, not my chauffeur. He has much more important duties to attend to.”
“Then who is your chauffeur?”
“I don’t have one. I prefer to drive myself.”
“Then I’ll drive you and call a cab to bring me home.”
“Are you so anxious to get rid of me?”
She crossed her arms and looked away from him. “I simply thought you might want to rest. You’ve had a rather stressful day.”
