He’d hoped to coax a smile from her, but she merely shrugged and continued staring at the cove. “That’s one less thing to worry about, I guess.”
Running fingertips over the white knuckles of the hand closest to him, he leaned closer to her. “I’m sure we can come up with a better way to relieve your stress than meditation.”
Now her brows arched, and she aimed a skeptical glance his way. “What did you have in mind, man under doctor’s orders to take it easy?”
“Wanna go chase some geese?”
“Ha. Not even a little.” She resumed looking out at the view, but her weak smile told him she appreciated his attempt at levity.
He touched her cheek and waited until her eyes locked on his. “Why are you stressed?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Those big, brown eyes went jittery. “Maybe because my client passed out today for no concrete reason, and he’s selling his interest in his airfield, and I’m worried that these events are connected?”
They were, but not in the way she feared, though her concern warmed some part of his heart he hadn’t realized needed warming. “Izzy.” He cupped her cheek and looked at her without blinking. “I’ve never passed out before. Today was a first, and I’m one-hundred percent confident that Dr. D has it right. I didn’t get enough rest, I didn’t eat and drink enough, and I burned too much energy.”
“Or you have a serious health issue, and you don’t want the rest of us to know about it.”
A laugh probably wasn’t the right response, but he couldn’t help it. “Wow. You are stressing.” He stroked her cheek. “I don’t have a serious health issue. I’d know. I have to pass a physical every year for my pilot medical certificate.” No physical health issue, at any rate. His mental health was a whole different subject. One he wasn’t getting into with her, or anyone.
She didn’t smile in return. Clearly, this wasn’t a laughing matter to her. But she did lift her hand to his cheek, brushed his beard. “Do you promise?” Dark eyes skewered him. “Do you promise what happened today had nothing to do with you wanting to sell your interest in Captivity Air?”
Again, it did, but not in the way she feared. Hoping to deflect rather than lie, he tipped his head and smiled at her. “You’re really worried about this, aren’t you?”
Her serious expression didn’t budge. “Of course I’m worried.”
She was, and it made him feel weaselly. “Don’t. Your goals aren’t in danger. This deal is going to happen. We’re going to close it. You’re going to make partner. It’s all going to work out.”
Now her expression changed. Serious eyes shifted into…something else. Something that set fire to the gold flecks in the deep brown and had them blazing. She stepped back. “That’s not what I’m worried about, you ass.”
No, God save them, she was worried about him. She honestly cared. Above the job, which frankly, should have been her number one concern, above the sex, she cared about his well-being. He closed the distance she’d tried to put between them, backing her up against the balcony rail. “I know. Bad joke. I’m sorry.” It was either lie or confess more than he wanted to admit even to himself. He chose the lie, which would make everything easier on everyone. “What happened today has nothing to do with my decision to sell my interest in the airfield. I swear.”
The sharp-eyed attorney stared up at him. He held fast to the superficial truth of his statement. Whatever she saw must have satisfied her because she rested her hands on his shoulders. “Promise?”
“Yes.” He leaned in and kissed her firmly. “No more stressing, okay?”
Her brows lifted. “It was a stressful afternoon, don’t you think?”
Absolutely. But he shrugged. “It might have been worse. According to Wing and Jorg, I could have been abducted and probed by three-tit aliens.” He pretended to shiver. “I tell you, it’s enough to make a man meditate.”
“I don’t recommend it. Besides, I think the real stress reliever is this view.” She turned, inhaled deeply, and leaned on the railing to take in the green treetops tumbling to the cove. Ripe rays of sunlight splashed over the water. She took another deep breath and her shoulders relaxed. When she turned to him, she smiled. “I love your view.”
“It’s beautiful,” he said, never taking his eyes off her. He trailed his fingers through the sweep of hair that waved back from her temple, then traced his thumb along her lower lip. Her smile wobbled, her eyes widened, and she blushed. “I meant—”
“I know what you meant.” Amused that a woman who freely admitted she’d hoped to go wild in Captivity turned pink at a simple compliment, he turned her to face the view, wrapped his arms around her, tucked her head under his chin, and prepared to enjoy this bundle of contradictions fate had dropped into his world. “I just happen to appreciate the view tonight more than usual.”
She craned her neck to look at him. “I think maybe Dr. Devan misdiagnosed you. I’m worried you have a traumatic brain injury affecting your vision and possibly your judgment.”
Skimming a hand under her sweater, he pressed his palm to the smooth, warm skin of her abdomen and brought his mouth to her ear. “There’s nothing wrong with my brain, my vision, my judgment, or any other part of me.” To prove the point, he rocked his hips and nudged her backside with one exceedingly healthy part.
Her breath hitched, but she eased forward to put some space between them and turned to face him. “Dr. Devan ordered plenty of rest, remember?” She scanned his face. “How are you feeling? For real.”
“Fine.”
Like slipping inside you while the sun slips below the horizon, and watching you light up in my arms as the first stars light up the sky.
Unfortunately, like everyone else, Izzy had gone caretaker on him. She’d driven home cautiously, as if she’d had a spun glass statue in the passenger seat rather than a flesh and bone man. Once home, she’d sat him down in the kitchen and fixed him breakfast-for-dinner with the food on hand. While he appreciated a home-cooked meal that he didn’t have to cook, and feely admitted the scrambled eggs, bacon and toast hit the spot—and he remained silently grateful she hadn’t limited him to the egg white and spinach omelet she’d whipped up for herself—he really needed to find a way to shift her out of nurse mode and into fuck buddy mode before he had any hope of making his sunset fantasy come true.
“Good. That’s good. Speaking of which, I got some good news today. I should have shared it earlier, but things got a little hectic.” Her lips curved as she spoke, but the smile seemed forced, and her gaze settled somewhere over his shoulder. “It’s about the deal.”