Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 104869 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104869 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
She gnawed at her top lip, steeling herself, and opened her eyes. Her gaze immediately collided with Smith’s. He’d been staring at her, an inscrutable expression on his face. He quickly averted his gaze, and as if he’d only now become aware of the fact that he was caressing her, snatched his hand away from her knee.
“What do you think?” he asked, his focus now on the foot still resting on his hard thigh. There was an odd rasp in his voice.
Kenny forced herself to look, then swallowed down a surge of nausea at the sight of her clearly broken toe. It was swollen to twice its original size and badly bruised.
“I think it’s going to need to be x-rayed. It looks like a bad break.”
“Pain? One to ten?”
“About seven.” She paused for a second before adding, “And a half.”
His lifted his eyes to meet hers again, his gaze piercing and perceptive.
“So an eleven, then?”
Her chin wobbled as she gulped down some air before nodding.
“Yes.”
“I have no idea how you managed to walk on this,” he said, sounding a little shaken as he looked down at her foot again.
“Honestly? Neither do I. Adrenaline, probably.”
They sat in silence for a few moments longer before he exhaled gustily and lifted her legs off his lap. He got up, dragging a cushion over to elevate her feet.
“Do not move. I’ll get you some ibuprofen. Then we’re going to the emergency room.”
“No,” she protested. “It’s late. We can do that tomorrow. Nothing’s going to change between now and then. It won’t get worse if I stay off it. I just need to ice it and keep it elevated.”
“They’ll have stronger painkillers.”
“I can cope.”
“Yeah, we’ve established what a trooper you are, Kenna,” he snapped, acid in his voice. “You can cope with anything, can’t you?”
Not everything. Not his blatant hatred and hostility.
She remained mute as she held his gaze and felt a brief flicker of satisfaction when he was the first one to break eye contact. He muttered something under his breath and strode from the room to the open-plan kitchen without a word.
He returned a minute later with a glass of water and a couple of pills.
Kenny took them with a grateful smile.
“When last did you eat?” he asked, looming above her with his hands thrust into the pockets of his jeans.
The question made her aware she was starving.
“Not since breakfast.” She hadn’t really had much of an appetite since he’d left her and in the last month had eaten only to fuel her body. And that only when she remembered to do so.
His eyes sparked with disapproval as he raked a critical gaze over her.
“You can’t afford to skip meals, Kenna, you’ve lost too much weight.” His eyes had snagged on her bare thighs and he folded his arms over his chest. “What the fuck are you wearing, by the way? You’re just a couple of thigh holsters away from looking like bargain basement Lara Croft.”
Well…fair.
Kenny chose to find the insight funny rather than be offended.
“Lara Croft wouldn’t have broken her toe by kicking a tire while wearing flip-flops,” she pointed out. “In fact, she probably wouldn’t be caught dead wearing flip-flops.”
He looked a little shaken and reluctantly amused by her self-effacing comment, but quickly covered it up with a scowl.
“You know it’s unsafe to drive in flip-flops, right?”
She hadn’t known that.
“Is it?”
“Jesus wept,” he mumbled from behind the hand he’d used to cover his face. It was a phrase he’d picked up from Kenny and her brothers and it always entertained her to hear him say it.
“You think you can manage a shower on your own?” he asked, lowering his hand again.
“Would you join me if I can’t?” Even Kenny was stunned by the highly inappropriate and wholly out-of-character question. It bordered on flirtatious.
He did a fairly decent impression of a goldfish as he stared at her in openmouthed disbelief.
Not flattering at all.
“Not at all, you can have a basin and a wash cloth and wipe yourself down in the bedroom if you don’t think you can manage the shower.”
Wow. Again…so unflattering.
“I’m sure I’ll manage fine,” she said, her tone more subdued.
“There may be a plastic chair you can use for support, if you need it.”
“Yes, please.”
“Or the tub?” Why was he still on about this? She’d said she could manage.
“I think the tub would be worse.” She’d need his help getting into and out of the tub.
While she was naked.
And his appalled reaction to her dumb flirty comment earlier made it more than apparent he was not interested in seeing her naked ever again.
He understood at once and his cheeks went dull red, noticeable even with the slight tan he’d acquired since she’d seen him last. He was one of those blond men who, while prone to freckling a little, browned instead of reddened in the sun.