Appalachian Abduction

“I’ve got aspirin,” he noted. “You don’t have to strictly rely on Miss Glory’s home remedies.”

“Might as well give them time to work. I’ll see how I feel after a bath.”

Head held high, Charlotte left the kitchen, and then paused by the den’s fireplace mantel. “What’s this?” she asked, picking up a wooden carving of a deer and examining it closely.

“Something I whittled,” he admitted, feeling self-conscious. “It’s a hobby, kind of relaxing.”

“This is beautiful,” she murmured. “How long did it take you to make this?”

“Hard to say. I whittled on it here and there in the evenings.”

“It would take me a lifetime,” she said with a laugh, placing the wooden deer back on the mantel. “Besides having zero artistic talent, I’m never accused of being a patient person.”

Charlotte headed to the hallway. Despite the stiff set of her back and shoulders, it was obvious that the injury bothered her.

Whether she was willing or not, if the cuts showed infection, he was taking her to a real doctor.

James stacked the paper plates and napkins, pausing at the sound of running water. Right now, Charlotte was stripping. In his house. Just down the hall. He pictured her curvy body stepping into the steamy tub and groaned. It had been way too long since he’d been with a woman.

All his nights were long, but this one might be the longest yet. Resolutely, he put up the leftover mashed potatoes and green beans. He’d get through it. He’d been through much worse.

James settled on the couch and fired up his laptop. Five minutes later, he’d confirmed that Charlotte worked for the Atlanta PD. By the time she emerged, he’d flipped on the television and attempted to watch a basketball game, but his mind was focused elsewhere.

Charlotte cleared her throat and entered the room. “This is silly, but if you must, you can see that the cuts are fine. And my knee’s only a little swollen.”

Her skin was damp and pink, and she tugged at the bottom of the oversize T-shirt that barely covered her underwear. James stifled his amusement. How could such a hard-ass cop be so shy?

“Come here,” he said hoarsely.

She advanced to within a couple of feet and turned to the side. Slashes of jagged crimson marred the otherwise smooth, pink flesh of her leg.

James swallowed hard. “Doesn’t appear to be infected. Have a seat. I’ll apply some of Miss Glory’s balm and put a bandage on it.”

“I can do it myself.”

He didn’t bother arguing, just picked up the antiseptic from the coffee table and applied some to a pad of cotton. “I’ll be gentle.”

“You’d better be.”

She sat down beside him and angled her body on her left hip, leaning her elbow on the sofa’s arm. Although she hissed as he applied the antiseptic to her head wound and cuts, she didn’t say a word in protest. He opened the jar of balm from Miss Glory and dabbed it on with his index finger, barely grazing the torn flesh. Quickly he put on the gauze bandage. “All done.” Damn if his voice wasn’t several octaves deeper.

Charlotte nodded and sat up straight. “Thank you,” she said simply. “I feel better already. I can’t believe it, but those herbal pills really work.” She gave a lopsided, loopy grin. “I’m getting drowsy.”

He wished he could say the same. Instead, every cell in his body pulsed with energy, acutely aware of the beautiful woman who stared at him with such gratitude.

“Not too early to go to bed,” he suggested.

Bed. More images played in his head of Charlotte sleeping across the hall in his guest bedroom.

She scooted sideways and lay down. “I could fall asleep right here,” she murmured, wiggling her toes. Even her pink-painted toenails were adorable. As if of their own volition, his hands wrapped around her arches and he massaged her feet.

“Um, that’s so nice.” Her voice was husky and deep, and her eyelids fluttered.

“You must be wiped out.”

“That and the pills.” Her eyes widened, and she struggled to a half-seated position. Her thin T-shirt twisted, revealing a pair of lacy panties.

James reached for the afghan and covered her bare legs. A man could only take so much temptation, but he hadn’t sunk so low as to take advantage of a half-drugged stranger. Hard to believe he’d known her only a day. Charlotte Helms had stormed into his life like some badass angel of justice, shaking up his quiet, orderly world.