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When the meal was complete, she debated about disturbing Dax. In the end, she prepared a plate of the beef tournedos and covered it. Though he’d teased her this morning about serving him tornadoes for dinner, she’d looked forward to his reaction to the delicious recipe. But that would have to wait. When and if he felt like eating, his meal would be ready.
After dinner, Gavin asked permission to play with his cars and dinosaurs in Sophie’s room. Jenna adjusted the nursery monitor to keep an eye on both children as she cleaned the kitchen. When she poured dishwasher detergent into the holder inside the machine, she grimaced. A few days ago, she’d made the mistake of using laundry detergent. The result had flooded the tile with soapsuds. Gavin had been gleeful over the turn of events and Dax had laughed. She pretended to have accidentally picked up the wrong box, but in truth, she hadn’t known the difference. She knew now.
Drying her hands on a dish towel, she checked the monitor again and heard Gavin’s voice quietly telling the sleeping Sophie about an incident at school. With a smile, Jenna headed toward the master bedroom to peek in on Dax. As she approached the door, she heard him groan.
She pushed the door open. His covers were a rumpled mess. His hair shot in a dozen directions as though he’d yanked at it in agony.
“Dax?” she whispered.
Bloodshot eyes opened, then closed again, but not before she saw the pain. Needing to help, she went to Dax’s office and searched the Internet. The World Wide Web had been her salvation during these days of learning to be a domestic engineer. She liked that term. Now, she searched until she found simple techniques for alleviating the pain of a migraine.
Back in Dax’s bedroom, she wet another cloth and replaced the warm one, then eased onto the edge of the bed. Without asking permission, she began to gently massage his temples.
His eyes fluttered open to look at her in glazed curiosity, but he was clearly in too much pain to say anything beyond, “That helps.”
She continued the gentle, circular strokes, praying he would find relief. When he tugged at the neck of his shirt, Jenna said, “Would you be more comfortable out of these clothes? I would be happy to assist.”
Well, perhaps not happy but willing. The idea of seeing Dax unclothed made her belly quiver.
His body tensed and she could see him holding his breath. Then he exhaled but didn’t answer.
Bracing herself to do what was best for her employer, Jenna unbuttoned his shirt. He had a magnificent chest and shoulders. Any woman would notice. She had the craziest urge to smooth her palm over the curved pectorals and discover if they were as rock-hard as she suspected.
Her pulse hammered against her throat. Her fingers tingled at the touch of him. Foolish, silly woman. The man was ill.
With steely resolve, she pushed the sleeves over his shoulders and slid them down his arms. He grunted once. She paused, afraid she’d hurt him.
With the shirt discarded, Jenna drew a deep breath and reached for the silver belt buckle. A hand stopped her. Jenna’s gaze flew up to meet his.
Nostrils flared, he grumbled, “I’ll do this.”
She nodded and backed toward the door. “If you need me…”
“In a minute.”
Did that mean he wanted her to return? She stepped outside the room, checked the portable monitor in her pocket to be sure the children were safe, and waited.
She heard rustling and footsteps, then the give of the bed. Her heart beat in her throat and she felt flushed. An embarrassing situation, no doubt, but there was more to her discomfort than that.
“Jenna.” The word was slurred.
She reentered the room, finding Dax in string-drawn lounge pants and nothing else. He’d replaced the damp cloth, covering his eyes. His chest rose and fell with the effort of his movements.
Jenna stepped to the bed and reclaimed her place on the edge. Determined to help this man who had helped her, she placed the baby monitor within her line of vision and as gently as she knew how, began to massage his temples again.
“Rest,” she whispered. “Relax.”
He inhaled deeply and exhaled on a sigh.
She massaged until her fingers numbed and her wrists ached but she refused to stop. Dax hadn’t abandoned her when the going had been rough with Sophie, and she would not abandon him.
After the longest time, the tension eased from Dax’s body. His breathing grew deep and even. The furrow between his brows smoothed.
With a tenderness that shook her, Jenna let her fingers drift down his temples, over the whisker-roughened jaw where she paused at the corners of his remarkable mouth.
Relaxed in sleep, he looked young and vulnerable. And incredibly male.
Stunned at the tender feelings he aroused in her, Jenna quietly eased off the bed and slipped from the room.
