Page 29 of Wreck Me

Ginny appreciated this reaction. He hadn’t belittled her fear the way Monique would have, and he also hadn’t minimized it with ‘happy talk’ the way Sadie tended to do. He simply wantedto know how he could help. “Just…talk to me while you’re doing whatever it is you’re about to do. It’s the not knowing that gets me.”

“That’s easy enough,’ he said, nodding several times in a rhythmic way, “but I don’t want to burden you with too much medicalese, so let me know if you want more talk or less talk.” She nodded too, and he continued. “I’m going to do what’s called a palpation test. It sounds fancy, but it just means I’m going to feel the two main bones in your leg for any unusual tenderness that might indicate a break or fracture. Does that make sense?”

Ginny smiled, feeling more at ease. “That’s helpful. Okay. Go ahead.”

“I’m going to start with the top of the tibia and work my way down.” He gently wrapped both hands around her lower right leg, just below the knee, and started using his fingers and thumbs to press lightly into the flesh over the bone, moving slowly toward her ankle. “You just let me know if anything hurts.”

“Oh, I will,” she said, but she was suddenly much more interested in the feel of his hands on her body than she was about whether her leg was in one piece or one hundred. His hands were so soft and warm. His fingers so sure, yet gentle. Good thing her injury was to her leg and not to her chest, because she wouldn’t have passed a palpation test there—her heart was palpitating rather erratically.

With his gaze lowered to her leg, his gorgeous brown curls partially covered his face, and his deep-set eyes were lidded. She visually traced the curve where the outer corner of his eye met the top of his cheekbone, then followed that line along until it reached the upper arc of his ear. He really was Michelangelo’s David come to life, its cold, shiny stone transformed into warm, living man. What woman viewing the David hadn’t longed to runher fingers along his jaw, through his hair, down his muscled arm?

He blinked up at her, almost making her jump. “Feel anything?”

Her heart did a somersault. She prayed it hadn’t shown through the thin satin of her jammies.Note to self: wear quilted pajamas from here on out.She shook her head and swallowed. “Me? Uh, nothing. Nope.”

“That’s good. I’ll do the fibula next.”

And he did. Oh, how he did. Ginny forced herself to look anywhere but at Nico as he continued to press, press, press slowly but methodically down her leg. There was a small crack in the wall near the ceiling she really should patch. Also, the windowsills were looking embarrassingly dusty. Was that a dent in the wall she’d never noticed before? Why did it feel as if each touch of his fingertips left a glowing spot behind on her skin, like a little Hansel and Gretel trail of warm stones?

Gah! This man’s hands should have warning labels tattooed onto them!

Finally, the pressing stopped. “None of that hurt?” he asked. Again, she shook her head. “There don’t seem to be any breaks then, so that’s good. Now, for the ankle. For this one, I’m going to put your foot in a couple different positions. Just like before, let me know if anything hurts.”

Grasping her foot with one hand, he ever so gently pressed it outward, toward the wall. She waited for the agony, but it didn’t come. “It’s a little tender, but really not much,” she said.

“That’s great.”

She waggled her eyebrows at him hopefully. “Hey, maybe you cured me through the laying on of hands.”

He chuckled. “If I did, I’ll start my own healing cult. I hear it’s very profitable. But don’t get too excited. I saved what I thinkwill be the worst for last. I’m going to bend your ankle the other way now, just the smallest bit…like…this?—”

“Stop!” Ginny said, as a lightning strike of pain slammed into her. She sucked air in through clenched teeth. “No guru status for you.”

Nico patted her leg lightly as he gave her a quick wink. “Guess I’ll have to stick to evil real estate baron.” He stood up and moved back to the chair by the bed. “So, the good news is, it’s only a bad sprain. The bad news is, it’s a bad sprain. You’re going to have to stay off it. If you don’t have crutches, I’ll run and get you some at the pharmacy.”

Ginny let out a long breath of frustration. “Ugh. I can’t believe this. This was my time to finish off my to-do list. Darn whichever dog it was.”

“Sorry, friend. No more ladder climbing or limb lopping till the pain is gone.”

“Got it, Doc,” she said resignedly, but her heart gave a tiny flutter. Assuming her ears weren’t sprained too, he’d just called herfriend. Were they friends now? Was that even possible? Was that even advisable? Probably not. And anyway, he must have better things to do than sit around massaging her shins and giving her tender sips of water. “And thank you, but I’ll call my sisters. There’s nothing Monique enjoys more than making me feel useless—you know, in a loving way.”

He leaned forward in the chair, his forearms resting on his knees. The sleeves of his white button-down were rolled up to the elbows, displaying the nicely muscled arms she’d suspected him of having. “You sure? I don’t have anything else planned for today, and I don’t mind helping. At a minimum, you’re going to need help taking care of the mutts.”

She knew she should say, ‘thanks but no thanks,’ and send him off to pillage more poor people, but the words wouldn’t come. She really didn’t want Monique fussing over her. She wasa terrible nurse. Sadie had the same cold she had, and Grant was busy taking care of her. Ginny had friends, but they all worked full time and none lived close. But only yesterday she’d assured this man that if he ever came near her again, she’d call the police. As far as she knew, he still wanted to yank her house right out from under her. “Will letting you hang around void my squatter status?”

He chuckled. “I don’t see why it would. Call your sister though if you want to double check.”

Ginny grimaced. If she even attempted to explain the situation to Monique, she would immediately jump to the conclusion that Ginny was falling in love with Nico, which was ridiculous. Ginny only preferred Nico over Monique while she recuperated because he was helpful, knowledgeable, easy to talk to, and even easier to look at. That was hardly love material. Still, she couldn’t let Nico know that. “Well,” she said at last, “the dogs do like you.”

“Then I’ll stay for the dogs,” he said, looking genuinely pleased. But in the next moment, a shadow of worry crossed his face. His hands rubbed down his thighs in an anxious motion.

“Something wrong?” she asked.

His broad shoulders rose and fell as he took a quick breath and let it out. “I’ve got a confession to make.”

14

Nico prided himself on being the type of person who is always in control, but that seemed increasingly impossible in the presence of Ginny Heppner. After finding her nearly passed out on the kitchen floor, he could easily have called an ambulance to whisk her away, giving him time to call in the bulldozers. Instead, he’d designated himself her nursemaid for the day and was offering her confessions! Still, he had a very important and somewhat delicate question to ask her, and a confession seemed a good way to approach it.

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