Beauty and the Brooding Boss / Friends to Forever: Beauty and the Brooding Boss / Friends to Forever

“Too many stairs,” he mumbled. “I’ll be fine here.”

The couch was too small and too pillow-laden to accommodate his lanky frame, so he’d ended up with one leg propped on the floor. His cast rested on his chest, while his good arm lay slung across his eyes. The helplessness of his position tugged at her heartstrings.

“You can leave now,” he said.

She could. But she didn’t. Drawing closer, Kelsey noticed his skin was covered with gooseflesh. In spite of the fact the afternoon sun poured through the windows heating the room, he was shivering.

“You’re still here,” he said in a low voice.

“And you’re cold,” she replied back. “Would you like a blanket?”

“No.”

God, he was stubborn. What was he going to do, lie there and shiver? Did he know how pathetic that looked? She looked around for something she could use as a blanket. A dozen pillows and no throw. Remembering the extra blanket in her room, she ran up and got that, tucking it gently around his torso, being careful not to jar him too much.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked.

“Because you’re shivering.”

“I mean, why are you sticking around?”

“Oh, that.” Why indeed? Truth be told, she couldn’t explain, other than it hurt her to see him suffering. “What can I say? I have a rescue complex.”

“In other words, I’m another cat.”

The medicine was starting to kick in. Still, even thick with sleep, there was no mistaking the resignation in his voice as if he didn’t believe someone could sincerely care. It made Kelsey think of the other night, when he was watching the rain.

Her heart ached a little more.

“Do you need anything else?” she asked. “Water? A phone?”

“I’ll be fine. You can leave with a clear conscience.”

“Thanks for the permission.”

He didn’t respond. Sleep had claimed him. Kelsey watched as his breathing slowly evened out.

Two hours later, she was still sitting in the living room, watching. She’d told herself she was only going to stay a few extra minutes. To make sure he was truly asleep before heading up to her room. But the longer she sat, the more she couldn’t tear herself away. Couldn’t stop studying his face. The way his brow smoothed in sleep or how his lips parted ever so slightly. Nestled among the pillows, he had a gentle serenity about him that, when awake, he hid from the world.

Unable to help herself, she tucked the blanket around him a little tighter. He smelled of clove and woods and sleep, and she had the overwhelming urge to lean closer and bury herself in the scent. Her fingers longed to stroke his cheek. Dear Lord, he was beautiful. She couldn’t deny her attraction if she tried. But beneath the attraction, she sensed something else. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. The sensation stirred inside her, faintly, tentatively, afraid to make itself fully known. She was afraid too. Because she wasn’t sure if she wanted the sensation to go away.

Alex slept through the rest of the afternoon and into the evening. At some point, Kelsey considered waking him so he could go to his room, but she didn’t. He looked too exhausted to disturb. Plus downstairs she could keep an eye on him.

At least that’s what she told herself.

She’d been joking about the rescue complex. Truth was, she didn’t know where this maternal streak of hers was coming from. As a kid, she sometimes helped the younger children with homework and stuff, but that was expected in a large household. But since moving out on her own, she’d focused solely on taking care of herself. Clearly something about Nuttingwood brought out her nesting instinct.

Something or someone?

After dinner, which she was pretty sure didn’t come close to Frutti de Mar standards, she returned to the great room to find Alex beginning to stir. “Hey,” she said softly, as his eyelids fluttered open, “you’re awake.” And feeling better, judging by the clarity in his gaze.

“You’re still here,” he greeted back, his voice still a little thick. “I thought you had dinner plans.”

That’s right, he walked away before the end of her and Tom’s conversation. “I took a rain check.”

“Oh.”

His response had a queer-sounding note she couldn’t pinpoint. “Good thing too,” she told him.

“Why’s that?”

Slowly, he shifted himself into a sitting position. With his hair matted on one side and a crease on his cheek, he looked perfectly and adorably tussled. Kelsey’s stomach twittered. “Well, for one thing, you’d have woken to a dark and empty house.”

“News flash—I’ve done that for years. Goes hand in hand with the hermit thing.”

The medicine still had a hold; his words were slurred and punchier than normal. Try as she might, Kelsey couldn’t help a smile. “Funny, that’s what Farley called you.”

Sleepy cuteness turned sullen. “I’m sure they call me lots of things.”

“What makes you think they talk about you much at all?”

“Try four hundred thousand, ninety-four search engine hits,” he replied. “Or have you forgotten already?”

“No, I haven’t forgotten,” she snapped. When Alex sat up, the blanket she’d tucked over him slid toward the floor. Instinctively she picked it up. “But not everyone is as—”

“Nosy?”

“Curious,” she shot back, “as I am.” Her cheeks warmed remembering the whole exchange. Was he right? That once a victim of gossip, always a victim of gossip? She draped the blanket back over his legs. “Though if you ask me, moving up to a castle in the middle of nowhere, you’re kind of inviting speculation.”

“I’m here because I like my privacy,” he replied in a clipped tone that said the conversation was over.

Kelsey noticed him rubbing his eyes. “Head still hurt?” She remembered Rochelle’s migraines sometimes lasted for days, once getting so bad she ended up in the hospital on a morphine drip.

Alex grabbed the change of topic. “Some, but it’s definitely better. The medicine helped. Along with the sleep. A few more hours and I should be fine.”

Meaning she should take her cue and leave? “Are you heading upstairs?”

He shook his head, while at the same time closing his eyes and burrowing into the throw pillow. “Not yet. I’m comfortable right where I am.”

“Very well then, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Kelsey?”

He reached out and caught her wrist, an unnecessary gesture since she stopped as soon as he called out. “Yes?” she asked.

“Thank you.”

That was it. Two words and nothing more, but Alex’s expression was soft and sincere, and his eyes turned from metal to dove-gray, making the sentence sound like volumes. His grip stayed on her arm, simultaneously gentle yet firm. Kelsey could feel the pulse of each individual finger beating against her skin. Their cadence echoed the heart in her chest. A slow honey-coated sensation began twisting deep inside her, and she smiled.