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Raising herself to a sitting position, she shook her head. “Go to sleep, Tyler. It’s nothing. One of those bouts of self-pity a woman gets every now and then.”
“Please, come. I’m afraid we’ll awake Dalia. I’ll make you herbal tea and tell silly jokes.”
She chuckled.
“See, just the thought of it makes you feel better.”
“Okay. I’ll follow the doctor’s orders.”
He held her hands and helped her off the bed.
“No doctor’s orders here. Only a friend’s concern.” With his arm around her waist, he helped her to the sofa and let her lie down. “Be back in a minute with the tea, but first...” Having noticed the soothing effect of the dancing flames on her mood, he switched on the fire.
In the kitchen, now familiar territory, he chose chamomile tea from the pantry, boiled water, and let the brew steep for a minute. He didn’t like tea but decided a scotch might work. He carried both remedies into the living room. Sienna was sitting on the sofa, her legs folded under her, staring at the flames. She wasn’t crying anymore, but he didn’t like her subdued appearance. Had she resigned herself to her lonely fate?
He didn’t know her well enough to guess her thoughts and anticipate her reactions.
“Here.” He handed her the cup. “It should be good for your stomach and your morale.”
“Thank you.” She carefully sipped her hot beverage and sighed, peering at the fire and the dancing flames.
Glass in hand, he settled into his chair, leaning back, his eyes half closed between sips, observing the play of emotions on her face. Patiently, he waited for her to swallow her last drop and lean forward to put her cup on the table. She seemed calmer.
“Feeling better?”
“Much better.” Her polite tone didn’t fool him. She hadn’t relaxed yet.
“Okay, turn around and lie down on your stomach?”
“What now, Dr. Kent? I had my Tylenol. I drank my tisane. Another prescription?”
“Be a good patient for a few more minutes.”
She sighed heavily.
“I’ll massage your neck and back. It should relax you.” And it would probably knot most of his own muscles.
“A massage?” The idea appealed. She threw the pillows on the carpet, and stretched out on the sofa. “Should I remove my top?”
“No,” he answered quickly.
He sat next to her and cupped her neck, stroking and kneading, then slowly gliding his fingers to the top of her back, reaching between the bones, rubbing the knotted muscles.
“This feels so good,” she muttered. “Thank you, Tyler.”
Reassured, he continued along her spinal cord, returned to her upper back with gentler strokes, and ended with feather light caresses on her neck. When he finally stopped, he noticed she’d fallen asleep.
Satisfied with his therapy’s success, he straightened and watched her, so innocent and sweet, and yet incredibly beautiful. If he’d followed his desire, he would’ve taken her into his arms, kissed her, and probably spent the night with her.
Was it smug on his part to assume she was attracted to him?
Nah!His presence in her house had reminded her of her late lover and prompted a wave of nostalgia.
With a frustrated curse, he tiptoed into the bathroom for a cold shower.
***
The next morning, Tyler avoided any reference to the previous night, and drove Sienna and Dalia to the school.
