Tender Loving Care

“You keep saying my name, so I guess you know I’m Logan Phillips?”

“I did assume that, yes.”

“What can I do for you, Melissa?”

“I’m here about the job.”

Melissa stared at the man in the hospital bed. She’d been working with the ill and injured since she was eighteen, and Logan had to be one of the healthiest specimens she’d seen since a pro football player had come into emergency with a broken leg.

Even with the bandages covering his eyes, he was handsome. His tanned skin and dark hair contrasted with the white gauze wrappings. Angry red streaks across the lower half of his face highlighted the strong lines of his jaw. The hospital gown stretched tight across his shoulders; the thin cotton clung to the broad expanse of his chest.

His large, powerful hands toyed with the light blanket; the restless movements were the only indication of unease. No doubt Logan Phillips was as comfortable in the bedroom as the boardroom.

She looked back at his face. His mouth was curving into a half smile.

“I don’t know what my office told you, but I’m not really prepared to conduct interviews, Melissa, let alone look at a building design. Perhaps you could contact my secretary and set up an appointment.”

Was he kidding? “I’m a practical nurse, Mr. Phillips, not an architect. Your boss wants to hire me to look after you for the next three weeks.”

“I don’t need a nurse,” he said flatly.

Melissa pulled the plastic chair in the corner closer to the bed and sat down. “Really? How are you going to get home?”

“Call a cab.”

“Who’s going to change your bandages?”

“I’ll do it myself.”

“I believe that’s what landed you in the hospital in the first place. Untreated corneal abrasions can easily get infected.”

“Maybe I learned my lesson.”

She shook her head. The man was completely pigheaded. “What about cooking dinner, going to the grocery store, driving to the doctor’s office….”

“Enough,” he growled.

“Your boss and my boss are in-laws, Mr. Phillips. I need a break from my usual assignments and you need a nurse/ housekeeper/personal slave.” His mouth quirked up at the corner, but she decided not to let her hopes go too high. “This seemed a way to solve both our problems.”

Logan’s jaw tightened in what she could only assume was his tycoon-in-action expression. “Very well, Ms. VanFleet, you’ve made your point. What are your qualifications? You said you were a practical nurse. I assume that means you have some knowledge of…”

He was impressive, she thought as he went on with questions about her schooling and years of experience. A far cry from her last patient. Bobby had been only six years old. His idea of an interview had been to ask what her favorite flavor of ice cream was and if she’d mind if he watched cartoons in the afternoon.

“Mr. Phillips,” she interrupted.

“Logan.”

“Logan, I don’t think you understand the process going on here.”

He sighed. “But you’re about to fill me in on the details?”

“Yes.” Melissa cleared her throat and glanced away, before she remembered he couldn’t see her amusement. “I didn’t explain myself before. Your boss is hiring me, but I’m the one who makes the decision about whether or not I want to take the job. I guess, in a way, I’m interviewing you.”

“I see.”

If the grim set of his lips was anything to go by, he did indeed see and was very much less than pleased. Even sitting in a hospital bed, Logan Phillips looked like the kind of man who got things done in a hurry and his way. Melissa knew that without the bandages, his eyes would be holding her captive. No doubt they were dark and formidable and could have intimidated her into retreat, but today they were safely hidden.

She’d always heard wild animals were most dangerous when injured. The barely controlled specimen in front of her did nothing to disprove the theory. He made her want to bolt for cover.

“I don’t think…” He rubbed his temple.

She recognized the involuntary sign of discomfort and sprang up to move to the edge of the bed. “When was your last painkiller?”

“I’m not sure. I haven’t been issued my braille watch yet.”

“I’ll be right back.”

She walked into the hall and saw the nurse carrying the medicine tray. After identifying herself, she collected Logan’s medication and returned to his side.

“I’ve got your pills right here. Let me get you water and…” Her foot hit something and she glanced down. A plastic jug rested next to the table. “What were you doing? There’s water all over the floor.”

“I was looking for the call button, but I couldn’t find it.”

Melissa went into the bathroom and came back with several towels. After tossing them onto the spill, she filled up his glass and pressed it into his hand. “Here.” The pills were next. “Open.”

“I’m perfectly capable of…”

“I’m strong and burly, Logan. I could take you out with one punch. Now open.” She grabbed his jaw and placed the pills on his tongue. “Drink,” she ordered.

He sipped the water. “Do they send you all to boot camp before giving you the starched hats?”

“No. I’ve just had a lot of practice dealing with difficult patients.”

“A mental hospital?”

“I usually work with children.”

“Are you trying to tell me I’m being childish, Ms. VanFleet?” One side of his mouth quirked up, then the other.

That grin should be declared a lethal weapon, she thought as she looked at him. He finished the water and handed her the glass. For a moment, their fingers brushed. Now that she wasn’t trying to get him to do something he didn’t want to do, she had a chance to notice small things. Like the way his touch sent her heart flying up into her throat and then down into her stomach. Must have been the breakfast she’d eaten downstairs in the cafeteria. Hospitals were notorious for questionable cuisine.

“I’m just trying to decide if I can work for you, Mr. Phillips.”

One eyebrow raised above the bandage. “I’m sure my boss told you I was very charming.”

“Something like that.” Melissa remembered Mr. Anderson’s promise that Logan Phillips could be stubborn and difficult. The sum he was paying was large enough to let her take the rest of the summer off, so she’d told the senior partner at Logan’s architectural firm that she was sure she’d be able to deal with him. It was herself she was worried about. Why were her palms suddenly damp? Maybe she needed to get out more.

“Have I passed inspection?” he asked.