Chapter Four

They made it down three flights in blessed silence, the only noise the echo of their footsteps. As far as Jade was concerned it wasn’t near long enough before Han spoke. Not that his voice itself irritated her, rather, it was her reaction to it. No matter the words, the sound of them turned her insides to goo. It must be the Spanish accent. Not strong enough to make him hard to understand, but enough to deliciously flavor every word.

“Owning your own accounting firm is pretty impressive. How did you manage it at such a young age?”

“It’s a long story.” She wasn’t sure she wanted him to know her life story, so she hoped he didn’t push it. “How young do you think I am?”

“I know Lexi just graduated college a year ago, so I’m guessing you’re a year or two older.”

“Try six.”

He shrugged a shoulder. “So I was off a few years. Late twenties instead of mid. I’ve got a good four years on you.”

She blew out a breath. “Listen, you don’t have to be polite and walk next to me; I’m sure my pace is slower than you’d like. Go at your own speed, and I’ll meet you at the bottom.”

“That’s okay. I’m good.”

Well, that didn’t work. Time to try good old honesty. Though the thought of opening up to him made her cringe. She stopped, a hand on the railing, and he was two steps further down when he came to a halt. She swallowed, and her voice came out at a slightly lower octave than normal. “Han, I’ve reached my limit here. I really need you to give me some space.” Please don’t ask why.

She had no clue what to tell him, but it wouldn’t be the truth. That she didn’t like how much she liked being near him. That any man could have such an effect on her. Or that this experience was proof she had truly come to terms with her past. Something she didn’t realize she cared so much about until now.

He looked at her in silence before he nodded. “You appear a little obsessed with your personal space. I’m wondering how you’re going to handle our dance lessons.”

How did she answer that? Lexi was the only one who knew about her issues and that wasn’t going to change. She’d dealt with it for years without any problems, mostly because of a good therapist. She’d deal with the dancing thing when the time came. Really, the fact she didn’t get all worked up when he touched her was a good thing. And took away some of the anxiety about the lessons.

“It’s just one of my quirks. It’s not going to be a problem for dancing, so no need to worry. Right now, I’m mentally exhausted, and I want a little extra space. Is it really such a big deal?”

“Do you want me to go first or bring up the rear?”

Rear? The last thing she needed was to watch that all the way to the ground floor. “I’ll go first.”

He swept out a hand in front of him. “After you.”

She sucked in a deep breath before she stepped past him and continued down. Which she realized was a mistake when her nostrils filled with his scent. She was several steps ahead before he started to follow. It didn’t take her long to realize this set up wasn’t any better. Yeah, she had her personal space and then some, but she’d swear his gaze burned into her as they descended. When she reached the landing and turned towards him to head down the next flight, she caught him in the act.

She raised her brows. “Getting an eyeful?”

He smiled slightly. “Not yet. Maybe by the time we reach the bottom. Your legs are mesmerizing.”

“You’re such a gentleman. I’m flattered.”

“I do my best.” He paused. “Seriously, though, Jade, I’d like to know why you became an accountant.”

She bit back a sigh of resignation. There were worse things to talk about. He was going to be part of her life so a desire to get to know her better was normal. As was her physical reaction to him. Normal.

“I started working for some family friends who had their own firm when I was in high school. I liked it enough to become certified myself and when they passed away, they left me the business as well as the building it was in. It has an apartment on the second floor which I was renting from them at the time, and I still live there. Not so impressive anymore, is it?”

“Mmmm…”

That vibrated through her, and she tried to control a shiver.

“Maybe not as impressive as building it up on your own, but you must be good to have kept the business going. How long has that been?”

“Seven years.”

“See?”

She lifted a shoulder. “Whatever. Your turn. Where are you from, and how did you end up in America?”

“I don’t know…That’s two questions.”

She looked over her shoulder and wrinkled her nose at him. “You are so annoying.”

“Gracias. No one’s ever called me that before. Slave driver, sadist, perfectionist, yes. But annoying? No.”

“You save that charming side of yourself for me, then?” She turned to head down the next flight of stairs and caught his huge grin.

“Si. Only for you, chica.”

“Thanks.” Her stomach did a flip, and she was annoyed with herself for feeling like it was a good thing. It was the smile. It had to be the smile.

“Well, Ms. Uptight…”

And the voice. That moniker shouldn’t seem like an endearment.

“Since you asked so nicely, I’ll answer both your questions. I was born and raised in San Juan, Puerto Rico and my—er, what is the word? Mentor, sent me to America to go to school at UCLA.”

She whistled softly, and it echoed around the stairwell. “You had to be an impressive dancer to have a mentor spend that kind of money on you.” As she turned to head down the next flight, she caught him scowling. She looked down at her feet as she continued, “You’re one hell of a sexy guy. Did you have a sugar mama?” She bit her lip and cursed herself before quickly trying to fix what she’d done. “Oh brother. I am a mess right now. That remark was uncalled for.”

“Ai ai ai! I do not know this sugar mama, but I can guess, and hell no! What do you take me for?”

She shook her head and tried to appear careless by shrugging. “Really, I’m sorry, but in my defense, it’s California and that stuff happens here.” Anxious to get off the subject she asked, “Is UCLA where you met Beck?”

He didn’t answer, and for a few long, drawn-out moments, the only noise was the hollow echo of their footsteps. She’d stepped over a line, and he had every right to be mad. She deserved whatever he dished out but was flooded with relief when he merely answered her question.

“It is. We shared a dorm room our first year and ended up making a great team. He helped me with my English classes; I helped him with math.”

“I wouldn’t expect an artistic type like you to have math skills.” She bit her tongue. What was it about him that made her brain turn off and smart remarks fly out of her mouth before she knew what was happening? Had she been transported to some sort of parallel universe? Where was poised, methodical, uptight Jade?

“I’m starting to get the impression you enjoy bickering with me.”

“Hmmm…Maybe I do, though God knows I shouldn’t. It does give me a bit of a thrill.” Along with other things there was no way she’d admit to him. “Generally I keep that stuff to myself, but there’s something special about you that has me saying things I shouldn’t.” She smiled over her shoulder at him and he gave her a quick half-smile.

“Ah, chica, I give women all kinds of thrills.” He chuckled. “Although, now you know two of my well-kept secrets, I must be careful about ticking you off.”

“You are such a celebrity.”

“Ah, ah, ah…Watch it. I know how to keep you in line.”

He ran a finger down her arm. How did he get so close without her realizing it? Her personal space alarm didn’t go off. She suppressed a shiver of delight, fought the urge to get closer and picked up her pace. No doubt he was used to females falling at his feet in adoration, and she was determined not to be one. “So, what’s your degree?”

“Bachelor of Arts with a minor in business. Yours?”

She tossed her head. “An associate’s degree in accounting.” She blew out a breath. Why did she feel so defensive about that? Until now she’d been darn proud. He cleared his throat but didn’t say anything and to relieve the awkwardness, as though she needed to defend her lack of a full college degree, she blurted, “My mom died my senior year of high school and it was up to me to take care of Lexi. My stepfather…” Her turn to clear her throat. Before she realized it had happened, she was on a subject she avoided like the plague. “Well, shall we say, we were better off without him.”

“I lost my mother when I was five.”

She looked over her shoulder at him and was surprised at the expressionless look on his face. “That’s tough.”

“I suppose.”

As she struggled with what to say, the stairwell door flew open and knocked her sideways into the cement wall. She hit her shoulder and head so hard it had her slithering to the floor, and the man that barreled through it would’ve knocked Han over and down the stairs if he hadn’t grabbed the railing and jumped back out of the way so quickly. The guy’s “Sorry, dude!” as he flew down the stairs and out of sight lacked sincerity.

“Jerk!” She yelled after him, her voice echoing around the stairwell as she turned to Han. “You are impressively quick. Are you all right? Did that guy hurt you?”

He sat on the opposite side of the stairway rather green around the gills and sweat beaded his upper lip. A wave of dizziness washed over her, and she had to fight the need to toss her cookies. Gingerly she touched the side of her head and sucked in her breath on a hiss. She had a good-sized bump, and when she looked at her hand, it was smeared with blood. Well, isn’t that just the icing on the cake?

Han swore profusely in Spanish. Quite a number of words she’d never heard before and had no desire to learn. “Chica, you are bleeding.”

He moved to sit next to her, and she ignored him as she dug around in her purse for something she could use to keep the blood from dripping down her face and found a nearly empty packet of tissues. About time something went right. Before she could pull one out, he took the packet, extracted one and applied it tenderly to her injury.

“What is it with people?” He removed the tissue and dabbed at the side of her face to wipe away the blood. “It doesn’t seem to be bleeding too badly, gracias a Dios.”

“Don’t worry, I’m fine,” she lied, not sure which made her more dizzy, the bump on her head or his nearness. She struggled to ignore the warm, squishy feeling she got from his genuine concern and the gentle way he was caring for her injury. It was so unexpected from someone like him.

He raised his brows. “An accountant and a doctor.”

She attempted a smile.

“You have a pretty good-sized lump here, and I don’t like it. Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“My shoulder will probably have a bruise, but everything else seems fine. I hit the wall pretty hard but didn’t fall down or anything.”

He placed the tissue on her injury again, then dabbed at it a couple times before he crumpled it in his hand and shoved it, as well as the packet, into his pants pocket. He took a quick look over his shoulder.

“We’re on the ninth floor; are you going to be able to make it the rest of the way down?”

“Yes. I’m okay. Really. Head wounds tend to be bloody but aren’t as bad as they seem. I just want to get home and start over again tomorrow. Thankfully it’s Saturday, so I can lounge around and recover from any lingering effects.”

She awkwardly hauled herself to her feet, then gasped as she swayed. She better not have a concussion because she was in no mood for more complications.

Han wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her from falling. “Maybe we better wait a bit. I do not need you passing out and falling down the stairs.”

She moved out of his hold. “I’m fine. Just stood too quickly.”

“You’re an interesting shade of gray…”

“I’m fine. Let’s get out of here. I am over this whole evening.”

****

His wrist throbbed unmercifully, and he felt slightly nauseous, but what bothered him more was the sensations this woman had bubbling to the surface. Seeing her crumpled up on the stairs gave him a strange feeling in his gut, and when she pulled her hand away from her head and there was blood on it, the feeling spread through his body. He had an overwhelming urge to do whatever was humanly possible to make sure she was okay. He didn’t dare think about why. It was foreign. It was weird. And though he didn’t like it, he couldn’t ignore it. The only thing he was capable of ignoring was his own injury so he could care for her.

And what was the deal with that? His body was his livelihood, his temple. He had it insured, for goodness’ sake. He should be having a meltdown about his arm being out of commission, but instead, he barely felt the pain. It was over-shadowed by what his stomach did when he saw blood oozing out of Jade’s head, changing her hair to red. He feared if it was any worse, he would be useless.

Damn it! It wasn’t even his first time around an injured woman. It was part of the territory in his line of work, and it never affected him like this. He felt bad about it, did what he could to fix things and moved on. The show must go on.

He pulled the tissue packet out of his pocket, extracted the last one, and wiped away the fresh blood. “It looks like the bleeding has slowed down.”

“Good. I’m fine. Really.”

“Well, I’m taking you to a doctor anyway.” He braced himself.

She groaned and compressed her lips. “I don’t need a doctor. I need to go home.”

“I know exactly how you feel.” He paused. “Do you live alone?” A reasonable question, but his muscles tensed anyway.

“Yes. Like it’s any of your business.”

At least she was behaving normally. For her, anyway. His shoulders relaxed. And it had nothing to do with the fact she didn’t have a live-in boyfriend. It didn’t.

“I’m not sending you home by yourself when you may have a concussion. I want a doctor’s verdict. End of discussion. But first we have to get down the rest of the stairs. Keep the tissue pressed to your wound to help stop the bleeding.”

She gave him an exasperated look as she did as she was told and started down. Her hand was gripping the railing so tight her knuckles were white, but other than that she seemed all right.

He wanted to pick her up and carry her to his car, which had him grinding his teeth for a number of reasons, least of which was the injury to his wrist that made it impossible. He’d like to put his arm around her for support but was worried how she’d react to the invasion of her personal space. The purpose was to alleviate her problems—not add to them. He scowled. She wasn’t the only one living on the edge right now. At least they were almost to the ground floor.

When the valet pulled up to the front of the hotel with his Porsche, she surprised him again.

“Oh my God, this is your car? I’ve always wanted to own a Porsche convertible. It’s a fantasy come true to ride in one.”

She quickly walked over to it and ran her hands lovingly, caressingly, along its curves and lines as she circled the car. Only one thought pounded through his brain as he watched her. He wanted those hands running over him. And did she have to say fantasy? He was having one of his own right now, and it revolved around the hood of the car.

He stifled a groan as she stopped and stood there with her legs slightly apart, hands caressing the fender, her pale hair a glittering waterfall down her back. Did she have any idea what she looked like? When he forced himself to look elsewhere, he noticed he wasn’t the only one caught up in the picture she made. The valets were drooling.

“Okay. Enough paying homage to my car. Get in. Emergency Room, remember?” It was more an effort to remind himself than anything. He was throbbing all over.

“Yeah, right. Sorry. Any chance I can drive?”

“Nope. Keep that in fantasy land.”

He walked around the hood of the car as she got in. He wasn’t sure he could handle looking at those legs as she climbed in the car. He didn’t trust himself. His hand braced on the open car door, he looked across the roof and silently cursed himself. He’d given the valets something else to lust over. He should’ve opened the door for her and blocked their view. He could’ve touched her then too and had a good reason for it.

Wait a minute. Since when had it bothered him to have other men salivating over the woman he was with? It happened all the time, and he enjoyed the envy.

He shook his head as he climbed behind the wheel, his injury painfully reminding him he had a bigger problem. He had to drive a stick-shift with his wrist trashed from his maneuver in the stairwell. Still, better an arm than a leg. So, since he had a lifetime of experience pushing past the pain, he sucked it up and headed towards Cedars Sinai, his hospital of choice, and thankfully close by.

****

Now what?

Han was passed out in the passenger seat and she needed to get him inside. At least he’d programmed the GPS before he conked out, so she found his house without his help. She was the one to drive him home. Not that she hadn’t thoroughly enjoyed driving his car. That made everything worth it. Well, maybe…She blew out an exasperated breath. This nightmare wasn’t anywhere close to over. He’d made such a big deal over her when he was the one seriously injured. She was sore and had a bit of a headache, but bumps and bruises were all she had to deal with. She didn’t need stitches, much less have the concussion he was worried about.

Han, on the other hand, injured his wrist when he grabbed the railing and twisted out of the way to keep from getting knocked down the stairs. Now he was sporting an air cast and drugged up on pain meds.

She shook him vigorously by the shoulder; thankfully it roused him. “Han. We’re at your house. I’m thinking you should’ve waited until you got home to take the pain killers.”

“Hmmm?”

She shook him again. “Wake up. We have to go inside, and not only can I not carry you, I can’t get inside either.”

He swiped a hand down his face and sat up in the seat. “Sí. We’re here already?”

She suppressed a sarcastic remark. “Yep.”

He fumbled with his seatbelt but appeared to be coming out of his lethargy. “Um, how about pulling in the garage?”

She gave him an exasperated look. It was some ugly hour of the morning; she was beyond tired. “I don’t have the code, genius, and I see no garage door opener in here.”

“Oh yeah…Right.” He shook his head in an attempt to clear it. She doubted it did anything. “Garage door opener.” He pushed a hidden button and a compartment opened to reveal the opener. He hit the button of the remote and the door made its slow climb up. After she pulled inside, he pushed the control button again, and the door closed. She shut off the car and looked over at him. He was staring blankly out the windshield. The timed light of the door opener shut off. Brilliant. Now they were sitting in a dark garage.

“We still need to get inside the house.”

“Give me a minute. I’m getting there. Why don’t you open the car door? It should give you enough light to find the light switch. It’s by the door to the house.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t have figured that out on my own,” she muttered as she shoved the door open. She sighed. She was tired and crabby, but that was no reason to be nasty.

When his pain killers kicked in and he realized he shouldn’t drive, they decided she’d spend what was left of the night at his house. By the time they were inside and he was safely in his king-sized bed, she was completely exhausted. So incredibly tired she saw no problem taking one of his t-shirts and a pair of sweat pants and changing into them so she could sleep comfortably. She was beyond over wearing a dress.

After changing in his en suite bathroom, she crept across his bedroom and headed to the door. When a wave of mental and emotional exhaustion washed over her, she sat down on the opposite side of the bed from Han, scrubbed her hands down her face and smothered a huge yawn. What she wouldn’t give to be able to lie down right here instead of wander around a strange house trying to find a place to sleep. For a moment she wished she hadn’t agreed to this plan; then she decided it was better than having him spend the night at her house. She just needed a moment to regroup before she went wandering around in search of a bedroom. If there even was another one. She groaned softly and yawned again. If not, she’d have to hunt up a blanket and crash on the couch.

Just thinking about walking made her want to collapse where she was. It was one more thing she’d have to do before she could sleep. Too bad he didn’t give her a little more info before the drugs kicked in. Was her head ever pounding. Maybe she should’ve taken the pain killers the hospital offered, but the accountant in her wouldn’t let her pay the outrageous fee they’d charge.

A movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention, and she turned toward the head of the bed. The dim bedside lamp illuminated the room enough she could see a sleek black cat reclining there, staring at her with eyes she swore were the same color as Han’s. Its tail twitched slowly back and forth as he decided whether or not to pounce. How had she missed seeing that beautiful creature before? Was she dreaming with her eyes open? She swiped a hand down her face. Nope, still there. And she was not up for being pounced on and mauled by a cat in her sleep. Though it would be no surprise if that was how this hideous night ended.

Slowly she laid down on her side and rested her head on the pillow to show the cat she wasn’t a threat. Then she reached out a hand and let him sniff her fingers, which he did with a touch of disdain. She smiled, then stifled a yawn. Typical. The tail twitching slowed, so she ran the back of her finger from his forehead over the top of his head and down his neck. He butted his head against it, the tail stopped twitching and the purring started.

“Aren’t you beautiful?” she whispered. “I wonder what your name is?” No collar with a name tag, so he was an indoor cat. “Are we going to be friends? You make me miss having a kitty.”

He stood, stretched, circled around and planted himself next to her, leaning back against her chest. She stroked him from head to tail, and the purring increased. She hadn’t owned a cat since she was ten, but as this one cuddled up against her, she had the desire to have one again. She caressed him behind the ears, then rhythmically stroked his back. She should look into getting a cat. It would be nice to have a little company around the house. What were the odds Han would let her have this one?

****

He was in her bed again. Where was Lexi? Why hadn’t she slept with Lexi? She kicked her legs and swung her arms in an effort to make him leave her alone.

“No, no. Please, I don’t want this.”

But he didn’t listen. He never listened. He just kept touching…and his hands were everywhere at once. Those horrible, rough, incredibly strong hands that she couldn’t get away from no matter what she did. She struggled anyway and pushed at them, desperate to get them off. If she didn’t get them off her, she’d go crazy. She was halfway there as it was, maniacally obsessed with the need to be free of those awful hands.

Jade’s eyes flew open with a gasp. Nothing was familiar, and a male hand rested on her stomach. It was happening again. She screamed, rolled away, and landed on the floor in a heap, all tangled up in the bedding. She screamed again and flailed her legs wildly in an effort to untangle herself from the bedspread.

She finally managed to kick herself free and as she rolled away from the bed, her escape was blocked by two bare masculine legs. She was trapped between the legs and the bed.

With a whimper she surrendered, squeezed her eyes shut, and went completely still. She feared any movement on her part would make things worse. At least she had herself under control enough to do that.

“Are you all right?”

That voice. That bone-melting accent. She blew out a breath. Two tears seeped out from under her lids and trickled down to her ears. Her locket. Where was her locket? Her fingers fumbled around her neck until she located the chain and pulled it out from under her shirt. She traced the chain until her fingers reached the locket at the end and held on for dear life. The adrenaline rush receded and left her weak and shaky. Guess they were even now.

She didn’t say anything; she couldn’t, so she jerked her head in a nod. It took all she had to keep the shiver creeping up her spine from visibly manifesting itself and humiliating her even more. Besides, she didn’t think she could handle seeing Alejandro Rivera in his boxers first thing in the morning. It had been enough of an eyeful last night in dim lighting. With a scruff in the full light of day? More than she could deal with at the moment. She tightened her hand around the locket until it dug painfully into her palm, grounding her in the present.

He didn’t move away. She sensed his presence and the silence dragged on. She was not opening her eyes yet—maybe when her heart started beating at a more normal rate.

“Just wondering…Are you planning on spending the whole day down there?”

He chuckled, and she appreciated his attempt to lighten the atmosphere.

“Shut up.”

She laid a forearm over her eyes. Deep calming breaths. Just keep breathing slowly and deeply. You’ll be okay in a bit. She shot to her feet. He leaped back; she smothered a smile. Damn was he ever graceful…And so hot she thought she’d melt. She suppressed a shiver. Talk about doing a one-eighty. She just woke from a nightmare she hadn’t had in years, one that normally left her even more determined to avoid men, but here she was admiring one.

He put his hands on his hips. “Well, that’s certainly an interesting way to wake up. Are you okay?”

She brushed her tangled hair off her face and nodded her head. In an effort to appear careless, she shrugged a shoulder. “Nightmare.”

“No kidding. You’re okay now, though?”

“Yes, but I’d rather not talk about it. How’s the wrist?”

Now he shrugged. “Sore.”

She bit back her own No kidding. “You were too out of it last night to tell me what the doctor said.”

“I’ve pulled some ligaments so it’ll be useless for a while, but nothing that will keep me from working at my dance studio. Some state-of-the-art treatments, as well as some not-so-state-of-the-art icing, and I’ll be as good as new.”

“That’s a relief.” In an effort to avoid silence, she asked, “So, when you say, ‘my dance studio’ do you mean yours or where you work?”

He ran his fingers through his hair and blew out a breath. “Mine. I bought it a few months back. I’m retiring from professional dancing and going in a more business-oriented direction. You’re looking at the new owner of Seriously Dance.”

“Wow. You don’t seem old enough to retire.” She smiled and gave him the once over with the intent to look for evidence of aging. Big mistake. Her heart rate sped up, and it had nothing to do with her nightmare. All that bronzed skin on display and a muscular chest covered with just enough dark hair to make her hands itch to see what it felt like. The novelty of being in such close proximity with a mostly naked man who was no threat held her enthralled. In an effort to keep her hands to herself, as well as prevent her mind from spiraling into her past, she reached for her locket and rubbed it between forefinger and thumb.

He rolled his eyes, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Sometimes people retire because they can, not because they’re old. Now, as exciting as this conversation is, I’d prefer to be having it in my clothes. Do you mind?” He raised his brows. “And you’re welcome, by the way.”

“What for?”

“The clothes you borrowed last night.”

“Consider it repayment for hauling you home,” she said over one shoulder as she left the room—and closed the door before he could reply.

It didn’t drown out his question. “What’s for breakfast? I’d love something hot, and I can’t do it on my own. My wrist, remember?”

Simply because he’d hassled her about using his clothes, she decided to leave them on while she rounded up something to eat. Sure, he was annoying and yeah, she’d already gone above and beyond, but still. It was Alejandro Rivera for crying out loud. She was living every woman’s fantasy. How many women would kill to be in her shoes right now? So, she’d help him out by fixing him—them—a hot breakfast.

Never mind this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to spend the morning in a Malibu beach house. The open-plan living room featured an entire wall of windows with a view of the ocean. To be able to step out the back door onto the beach fell into the realm of fantasy come true. Everything about this guy fulfilled one fantasy or another. Not going there…

Focus on the kitchen. That’s a fantasy, too. Ultra-modern, stainless steel appliances, dark cupboards with brushed silver hardware, and a mosaic tile backsplash in reds, grays, black and white. Cooking in there would be a treat and watching the ocean while she did it…She let out a sigh of delight. The troubles she experienced yesterday might very well be worth the tradeoff.

She’d just turned off the burners on the scrambled eggs, bacon, and hash browns and was searching for plates when he wandered into the kitchen and propped a hip on the end of the breakfast bar.

“Angelito mío, my stomach and my wrist thank you.”

When he grinned, his eyes sparkled like champagne, and left her feeling like she’d downed a whole bottle of the stuff. By sheer effort of will she looked away and tried to remember what she was doing. Plates. She needed plates for the food. And cups for the coffee. Most importantly, she needed coffee.

“Are you being nosy, or do you need something?”

That was more like it. She regained some of her equilibrium. “I don’t know…Do you usually eat your food out of the pan it was cooked in?”

He nodded his head towards her. “You’re almost there. Next cupboard over.”

She pulled out what they needed, loaded their plates and after getting out the silverware, which she found in an earlier search, she set the plates on the breakfast bar, careful not to look at him again—or get too close. Apparently the crazy sensations he aroused last night weren’t a one-off. She desperately needed some coffee and food to give her the strength not to do something stupid. Like kiss him again. She felt the color rush to her cheeks and turned away from him so he couldn’t guess what she was thinking.

She sneaked a glance at him to find he was watching her, and it took all her concentration not to fumble around and make a mess of things. She bit the inside of her cheek rather hard as she tried to pour coffee in their cups without sloshing it all over the uber-modern cement counter top. And was rather proud of herself for actually doing it. However, she had to take a bracing sip of the brew before setting his next to his plate. All the while making a concerted effort not to look at him.

“I’m going to need your help.”

What? Surely he could eat with one hand. No way she was feeding him breakfast. “Not happening. You can feed yourself.”

“Not eating, chica, though now you mention it…”

Not looking. Not looking. Not looking. She was having a hard enough time coping with imagining the look on his face, the expression in his eyes. She stifled a groan at the thought. Was he seriously attracted to her? Or was he just doing his Devil-of-the-Dance-Floor routine? She was nothing special, just ordinary Jade Nichols, who garnered some attention from the male species, but none of them the caliber of Alejandro Rivera. He didn’t seem the type to have a macho need to conquer every woman he encountered, so what was the deal?

She stiffened her spine. She wasn’t looking for a romantic relationship, and if she was, it certainly wouldn’t be with a celebrity. Add in the fact, as Beck’s best friend, they were going to be around each other for years to come, so getting involved as anything more than friends was a very bad idea. First step in doing that was to keep her distance and do her best to maintain the uptight impression she’d given him last night. Or most of last night, anyway. Seriously, there was no reason for her to be so worked up over him. He was just a man. Like half the population on the planet. She turned toward him.

“You can remove that thought and tell me what it is you really need.”

“Help getting this back on.” He held up his air cast and elastic bandage. “I took it off for my shower and am having a hard time putting it back on.”

Getting close to him.

Panic welled as a flashback of the nightmare returned. Her body went rigid. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly as she ran a finger over her locket. This was not her stepfather. But…Had all that up-close-and-personal with him last night been the catalyst to the old nightmare returning after years of hibernation? The thoughts and feelings his nearness aroused were scary in a different way. Would her life ever be the same once Lexi’s wedding was over?

“Wrapping your wrist. Really?” She swiped a hand down her face and blew out an exasperated breath. “Sorry. Still trying to recover from last night. And waiting for the coffee to kick in.”

“Not much of a morning person, are you?” His gaze wandered over her face. The look in his eyes made it hard to discern what he was thinking. He tipped his head back to look at the ceiling for a moment then put the bandage and cast on the counter and started towards her. Her breath hitched in her chest, but he merely moved past her, headed to the refrigerator. Opening the freezer door, he dug around inside.

“I just remembered I should probably ice it first, so let’s eat while I do that.” Pulling out an ice pack, he held it on his arm as he went to the breakfast bar to sit.

Rather than take the seat next to him, she pulled her plate across the counter so she could stand opposite him while she ate. She was pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to get anything down if she sat next to him. She needed to psyche herself up for bandaging his arm. She went a little lightheaded at the thought of touching him and brushed a finger over her locket again. It was a testament to how tense she was when the cat rubbed against her leg and she had to stifle a scream. She looked down at it and wrinkled her nose.

“Your cat is the reason I ended up in your bed rather than somewhere else. Fell asleep making friends with it.”

He gave her a half smile, took a sip of coffee then told the cat, “Well, well, well, Flamenco, it’s come to that now? I need your help to get a woman in my bed?”

****

This had to be one of the stupidest ideas he’d come up with lately. It would’ve been painful and sloppy, but he could’ve strapped his arm up on his own. He’d wanted an excuse to be near her again. Why?

Why in the world would he want to get any more entangled than he had to with a woman who not only wasn’t his type, but had issues? Giving dance lessons to a person who didn’t want him touching her wasn’t bad enough? He had to look for reasons to get close to her? And what was it about her that made him feel and act so out of character? She had that stupid dress on again and her hair was pulled back in the clip.

“This really looks painful, Han. It’s so swollen. I’m worried I’ll hurt you while I’m wrapping it.”

“It hurts; I won’t deny it. But I’ve had worse and had to dance through it. Just wrap it back up the best you can. And do me a favor. When you get home, burn that dress.”

Her eyes flew to his face. “What? Why? There’s nothing wrong with this dress. It’s in good shape. I hardly ever wear it.”

“Thank God. Seriously. Part of my job is knowing something about clothes. And that dress isn’t—suited for you. It doesn’t do you justice. Get rid of it and find something more flattering. You’d be a knock out in the right dress. Especially with those stilettos.”

“I don’t even know what to say to that. But you might want to shut up so I can concentrate on your arm. I don’t want to hurt you unnecessarily.”

Probably in his best interests to take that advice. So he did. She shifted his arm to make it easier for her to wrap the bandage and he winced. Then she bent forward some more, and suddenly it was all worth it. The view rivaled the one out his windows. Maybe it was the vantage point, but suddenly, she had a figure. She was skinny, much skinnier than he liked, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have curves where it counted. It was the clothes that kept him from realizing it. The unflattering dress, his T-shirt and sweatpants. One look and his imagination went wild. Probably not a good thing for him or for her. She was wound up so tight he didn’t dare say anything, much less touch her in any way. Her nightmare gave him some insight and took the thrill out of pushing her buttons in that regard.

“As soon as you’re done with this, I’ll take you home. Where do you live?”

“Santa Monica. You didn’t take any more of those painkillers, did you?”

He snorted. “I’m not stupid. I’m only taking those at night so I can sleep. Ibuprofen is enough to take the edge off during the day.” He clenched his jaw when an unexpected stab of pain went up his arm. “We can program your address into the GPS, and you can sit back and enjoy the ride along the Pacific Coast Highway.”

Her head jerked once in acknowledgment, and her eyes darted sideways. Maybe he wasn’t the only one reeling from their latest up close and personal. “That would be nice. I haven’t done it in a while.”

He sighed. Beck, you better appreciate the sacrifice I’m making to give you this wedding gift.