In Love With The Boss

“I apologize for that, Miss...whatever your name is—”

“Milligan.”

“Thank you. I’ll try not to forget again. However, I assure you I can manage to get myself to the bathroom. I managed quite well before you got here.”

“You don’t seem to be doing such a good job of it now,” Sadie calmly observed.

Jordan Trent’s face turned a dull red. “Oh, all right. Give me a hand here to get on my feet.” “Please.”

“Please give me a hand to get on my feet,” he muttered through gritted teeth.

Hiding a grin of triumph, she stepped behind him, grasped him under the armpits and shoved. It took a moment or two of struggling—Jordan Trent’s lean build was deceptive. He had to be carrying a lot of muscle weight. Eventually, however, after a lot of groaning and cursing on his part, she had him upright again and leaning heavily on his crutches.

“How did you manage to hurt your foot, anyway?” she asked him when she was sure he was balanced securely.

He avoided her gaze, concentrating on maneuvering the crutches. “I fell off a ladder.”

Poor man must have been trying to fix a hole in the roof, Sadie thought, feeling a stab of sympathy. He probably couldn’t afford to have someone do it for him.

She watched him take a step forward, terrified he might fall again. “Just be sure and lift the crutches high enough to miss the rug,” she warned, braced to grab him just in case he might topple over.

Without answering her, he hopped his way across the floor, then shuffled sideways through the door into the bedroom.

Sadie followed him, keeping a wary eye on his progress.

Jordan halted at the door of the bathroom and peered at her over his shoulder. “I’ll have to leave the crutches with you. There isn’t enough room to move in there as it is, without these two damn broomsticks getting in the way.”

She took them from him, then waited in an agony of apprehension until she heard the reassuring sound of the toilet being flushed.

A moment later the door opened and Jordan stood in the doorway, supporting himself with one hand on the frame. “Are you still here?” he mumbled, sounding as if he’d hoped she’d vanished into thin air.

Sadie sighed. The truth was, she was feeling more than a little sorry for him. Apart from his injury, it was obvious some other misfortune had happened to him, and it must have been substantial.

His speech and lofty attitude clearly told her that at one time he’d been used to a more comfortable life-style. Yet here he was, not only reduced to living in appalling conditions, more than likely half starved, but temporarily crippled, as well. Obviously his company must have felt sorry for him and hired him a temp.

It had to be terrible for a man like Jordan Trent to have to deal with such a come-down. No wonder he was so defensive and irritable. Sadie’s kind heart ached for the poor man. “You’ll feel much better when you’ve showered and shaved,” she said soothingly.

He looked as if he would like to strangle her. “Miss Milligan,” he said, speaking slowly and distinctly, “in case you haven’t noticed, there is no shower in this miserable excuse for a bathroom. Even if there were, I would not be able to use it with this lump of plaster on my foot.”

If his voice rose a fraction, Sadie chose to ignore it. Meeting his steely gaze without flinching, she said calmly, “You could use the tub if you drape your foot over the edge.”

“I could, if I were a contortionist, which I am not. Nor do I have any desire to learn how to be one. I’m afraid you’ll have to put up with my dishevelled, unwashed state for the time being.”

She gave her head a decisive shake. “I’m sorry, Mr. Trent, but I’m afraid I must insist. Not only will you feel better, it will help achieve a more professional atmosphere.”

His eyebrows arched. “I’m sorry that you find my appearance offensive. Maybe I’d better find someone less particular.”

In spite of her sympathy for his plight, Sadie was beginning to lose patience. She took a couple of steps toward him. “You know very well you’d have to wait another day to replace me. In the meantime, you’d lose valuable work time. Besides, I doubt very much if you’d find anyone else willing to take care of you like this. I’m breaking all the rules, you know.”

Jordan frowned. “If you must know, Miss Florence Nightingale, I know plenty of women who’d jump at the chance of taking care of me. Now please hand me my crutches. I’m tired and I want to go back to that uncomfortable lumpy couch and read the newspaper.”

Ignoring his wishful comment about the other women, she said evenly, “Not until you’ve bathed and shaved.”

“And just how am I supposed to accomplish that?”

“I’ll help you.”

A gleam appeared in the ice-blue eyes. “Well, that should prove interesting, to say the least.”

Feeling she’d stepped on shaky ground, Sadie lifted her chin. “I’ll fill the tub for you. If you sit on the edge and swing one foot in, you should be able to ease yourself down in there, leaving your injured foot hanging over the edge.”

For a long moment he held her gaze, while she wondered frantically what was going on in his mind, then he let out a long sigh. “All right, I can tell you’re not going to stop whining about it, so let’s get it over with. Though I warn you, if I get stuck in there, you’ll have to haul me out.”

“I’m sure you’ll manage beautifully.”

Jordan grunted. “You’ll find a large bath towel in the chest under the bed. Get it for me, will you?”

She waited pointedly until he muttered, “Please,” as an afterthought. Wondering if perhaps she hadn’t taken on more than she could handle, she went down on her knees and peered under the bed. When she stood again, the striped towel in her hand, Jordan had disappeared from the doorway.

For a moment she thought he might have managed to get back to the couch without his crutches, but when she looked in the bathroom she found him sitting on the toilet, his face white and drawn.

“Are you all right?” she asked anxiously.

“A little light-headed, that’s all.”

“I’ll cook you a meal just as soon as you get dressed,” she promised. “You’ll feel better when you’ve eaten something.”

He looked up at her, and she felt an odd tug at her heart. Right then he looked for all the world like a helpless, sulky little boy. “That’s if I manage to survive this torture,” he muttered.

She smiled. “Don’t worry, I’m quite sure you’ll be able to handle things just fine.”

He studied her in silence for a long moment, then said quietly, “Your family must miss you a great deal.”

Surprised by the comment, she shrugged. “I know I miss them, but I have to admit, it’s nice not to be constantly at their beck and call.”

“They don’t live here?”

“Lakeview. Still in Oregon, but not close enough to drop in on me every day.”

“Your husband must like that.”

“I don’t have a husband,” Sadie said, ignoring the little skip of her heart. She handed him the towel, then edged past his knees to turn on the faucets in the tub. Her mouth twitched when she envisioned Mrs. Simpson’s reaction if she walked in on them now.

She’d probably lose her job, Sadie thought as she tested the water gushing out of the tap. After adjusting the temperature to her satisfaction, she placed the stopper in the freshly cleaned drain, then straightened.

Unnerved to find Jordan Trent watching her with intense interest, she dried her hands on the hand towel. “There, that should do it.”

“Thank you, Miss Milligan.”