River Wolf(4)

Before her knuckles made contact with the wood, a gruff voice called, “Come in.”

Dude has ears like a bat. It wasn’t the first time he called for her to let herself in before she could knock. It had as yet to become creepy. Releasing the latch, she leaned her hip into the weighted door and shoved it open while still balancing the food.

Bare-chested—he hated the hospital gowns—with his blankets resting somewhere in the vicinity of his waist, Luc Danes stared at her with raw hunger in his deep green eyes. “Burgers?”

“Three of them today. I actually ordered five, but I plan to eat one.” She hadn’t been hungry until she’d stood inside Mac’s Shake and Grilled. The local place was the only place she went for burgers because they were off the chain—real meat, fresh fries, and hand-mixed shakes.

“So that means I get four?” The corners of his very full mouth curved into a grin.

“I figured I’d save the fourth one for later when you get grumpy.” Another perk to being an assistant on community service was she didn’t have to be as nice to him as the other nurses were. Considering he threw food tray across the room the first day he’d been assigned to her floor, narrowly missing the worker who’d delivered it, the nurses maintained a healthy distance from him.

At her quip, his grin grew wider. “Come closer. I smell fries.”

“Dude,” she said, pausing at the foot of his bed. “Cut the creepy wolf playing grandma act, cause you’re not eating me today. Got it?” Some patients needed a firm hand, others needed a brick to the side of the head. Luc had always struck her as the brick type.

Surprise flared in his eyes, but his grin didn’t waver. “I’m starving. They tried to serve me runny eggs, cold bacon and something they called a muffin but had the consistency of fossilized bread.”

“Eww,” she said, wrinkling her nose. Sympathy flared through her. “Personally, you couldn’t pay me to eat the eggs here.” She passed him the bag of burgers.

“I don’t care what they called it, but it wasn’t eggs.”

Surreptitiously, she glanced at the wall nearest the door. No trays were on the floor and, thankfully, no eggs dripped down the wall.

Luc pulled open the bag. His left arm was in a cast, but he had the use of his fingers. Both of his legs were casted as well and strung up for support. “I didn’t throw the food. I thought about it though,” he admitted in a grumbling tone as the paper bag crumpled. He pulled the first burger out, unwrapped the foil then took a huge bite. “Oh my God,” he groaned with his mouth full of food. “I love you.”

“Yeah, you say that to everyone who brings you burgers. Strawberry or vanilla?” She held the shakes up then froze when his gaze locked on her. The heat in his eyes scorched her. “Shakes. Not me.”

“Pity.” His wink removed any disappointment from the word. “Which do you prefer?”

“I asked first.”

He took another bite, all the while staring at her. A part of her wanted to flee the rawness in his eyes, but the rest of her held completely still. What the hell is it about this guy that makes me feel like prey? Hating the sense of helplessness swamping her, she raised her chin. She’d stared down the judge who’d given her the sentence, the assistant district attorney who listed off her actions as criminal, and then her mother, when she’d disowned her. She could handle one damn patient.

Silence punctuated by the sound of the foil crinkling followed as she fought to hold his gaze. The stare-off occupied the next couple of minutes until he’d finished the first burger. Finally, he sighed. “Tell me which one you prefer, please?”

“I like them both.” Since he’d caved first—because he had, dammit—she relented.

“Really?” He touched the side of the bed. “Come, have your burger with me.”

“Hmm, no go, dude.” Since he had as yet to decide which he wanted, she set the vanilla on the tray table and slid it into place for him. “I have a shift to work. Rooms to clean and paperwork to process.”

“Oh.” Disappointment seemed to wreath him, and it tugged at her. “But I can come back to check on you in a bit, maybe give you a hand if you need it…”

“Sponge bath?” The tease sent heat rushing to her cheeks, and she scowled. He laughed, whether at his words or her reaction, she couldn’t be sure. “Teasing, sweet cheeks. Teasing.”

“Yes, well they call it sexual harassment these days.” Strawberry shake in hand, she reached for the bag and he caught her wrist.