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Isobel giggled as she held up a hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to laugh, but that’s a really funny sentence.” She giggled again, and Callum felt the strange sensation of laughter inside.
“I don’t think you’re taking this seriously enough,” he said. “I don’t think you realise what it looks like, or what it means. I’m reliant on plastic legs. I spend a chunk of my time in a wheelchair. I don’t have the same mobility as most people. Hell, without my legs, I can’t even stand.”
She started laughing so hard that she had to hold on to the counter to stay upright.
“I mean my prosthetic legs,” he snapped.
She kept on laughing. Callum threw up his hands and waited for the little nutcase to calm down. But as he did, he felt a warmth flooding through him as her weird reaction undid some of the hardened anxiety that sat like a lump inside him.
“Sorry, sorry. I’m sorry.” She worked to calm herself but couldn’t stop grinning. “Carry on.” She motioned for him to continue.
Callum stood watching her and shaking his head. In all the scenarios he’d imagined when he told her about his legs, laughter hadn’t been one of them. Actually, now that he thought about it, the main reaction he’d expected was disgust and anger. He hadn’t considered anything past that.
“I’m sorry, Callum, I have a sick sense of humour. I didn’t mean to make you feel self-conscious about your limb loss.” She was so earnest that he found himself falling into her beautiful eyes.
Strangely enough, her odd reaction had made him feel less self-conscious than he’d felt for a long time. “Limb loss?”
“I don’t know what to call it. Is it a disability? An injury? A maiming? What’s the right term? ‘Disability’ sounds kind of wrong when you’re obviously very able.” Her eyes went wide and her lips made a little oh shape. “Oh my goodness, that’s how you broke that guy’s wrist with one kick. You have bionic legs. It’s like a superpower.”
Callum shook his head. She was completely insane. And if he wasn’t mistaken, her attention had taken a turn south. Towards a much hotter zone. Her eyes were skimming over his bare chest as she bit her bottom lip.
“You were so amazing during that fight,” she said before she licked her lips.
“Isobel, focus. We’re talking about my legs.”
“Show me.”
Callum almost took a step back. “What?”
“Show me the legs.”
He couldn’t move, couldn’t think. The heat in her eyes was completely at odds with what she was asking. It made no sense.
“You don’t want to see them.”
“I do.” She nodded. “I want to see you naked.” Her cheeks flushed a beautiful shade of pink.
Callum ran a hand through his hair. “I think you have the wrong idea here. There’s nothing sexy about this. You might think my mechanical legs give me superpowers or something, but the reality is that they are pieces of metal where flesh should be.”
Her face turned suspiciously innocent. “Are you scared?”
“No.” He said it far too fast, and she gave him a knowing smile.
“Chicken.”
He growled, wrapped his hand around her wrist and strode towards his bedroom, dragging her behind him.
“I don’t know why I bother with you,” he said as he swung the door shut.
“Because I’m easy?”
He knew she was joking, but he also knew what the folk in town said about her. And he didn’t like any of it. He grasped her chin and made her look at him. “Never say that again. You are a passionate and sensual woman. Y
ou lose yourself in the moment. You are not easy. Never that. Okay?”
Her eyes filled and she nodded before stepping back. She cleared her throat and signalled at his jeans.
“Strip.” Her smile was devilish. “If you dare.”
