Page 33 of Darla's Christmas Knight
“You little hellcat,” she muttered, rubbing her palm over her throbbing thigh. “And you ruined my jeans,” she accused, noticing the snags. Eyes smarting, she limped down the hallway to the bathroom, hoping Bobby had disinfectant.
He did. She spread the contents of the first aid kit and found the antiseptic ointment. Next, she removed her boots and socks, peeled her jeans down her legs and kicked the denim aside. The scratches were worse than she expected, and blood seeped from several of them. Gritting her teeth, she stepped into the tub. She sat on the side, adjusted the water, and aimed the hand sprayer over her thigh. It was too painful to even admire her newly manicured nails as she rubbed her fingers over the wounds, removing as much bacteria as possible. Who knows where the stupid cat had been? It must be one of the barns cats because Bobby wasn’t a fan of thestandoffish creaturesas he called them.
And thinking of the devil, she heard his booted tread in the hallway. And his cheerful, “Hello, beautiful,” greeting quicklychanged into a shocked, “What the bloody fuck happened to you?” as he peered at her thigh.
“Since when do you have a cat?”
He frowned. “Taffy did that?”
She aimed a stink-eye at him. “Taffy? That devil? Nothing sweet about that creature. I walked in the door, and it pounced. Out of nowhere. Used my leg as a freaking climbing post.”
“I’m sorry, love.” He removed the spray from her hand and turned off the water. Darla reached for a towel, but he also took that from her. “Let me help.” With infinite care he patted her leg dry, applied the ointment, and wrapped a bandage around her thigh. “You can wear a pair of my sweatpants. Your jeans will chafe.”
She moved to lift her leg over the bath ledge, but Bobby swept her up into his arms. “I can walk,” she protested.
“But you don’t have to,” he countered, stalking to his bedroom.
Moments later he lowered her onto his bed and weirdly growled, “Get out. I’m bloody mad at you.”
She frowned. “What?”
In answer, the darned cat streaked across the bed, leaped to the floor, and dashed out of the bedroom. “Whendidyou get a cat?”
“I didn’t.”
“I’ve a throbbing thigh that says otherwise.”
He huffed. “She followed me home one evening.”
“A stray?”
“Throwaway,” he said over his shoulder, rummaging in his dresser. Bobby handed her navy-blue sweatpants. “This should fit. One of the ranch hands discovered a sack on the side of the road. When he opened it, he found three cats.” He nodded toward the door. “That one escaped, and somehow ended up on my step.”
Her heart softened (an infinitesimal amount) toward the cat. “And the name’s Taffy?” It was a cute name.
He shrugged. “She lobbed a bag of candy off the counter and started chasing the pieces around the floor. It was kinda fun to watch.”
Darla found his sheepish look rather adorable.
Kneeling before her, he lifted her right calf and slipped a thick, warm sock over her foot.
Her eyes roamed over the top of his head. Shiny skin peeked through his short hair. Darla fisted her hands, stealing herself from touching him. And kept her back ramrod straight, lest she do something really dumb …
Like bending over and kissing that bewitching piece of exposed scalp.
Gah. Since when did she find balding men sexy?
Donotexpose your heart to him, she silently reprimanded herself for that moment of weakness.
Bobby placed her left foot down and lifted his head. “What are you doing here?” he asked, rather huskily, his gaze as heated as her blood.
“How did you know Iwashere?” she countered. She hadn’t expected him for a couple of hours.
“Security alerted me. And don’t sidestep my question. I told you I was planning on getting a lift back to town and collect my truck from your place, so don’t tell me it was to return my truck.”
Why was Bobby so offish with her? “Is it a problem that I’m here?”
He huffed. “You arealwayswelcome here, Darla. Ilovethat you are here.”
