Hidden Riches

on her stomach, her hair, tousled from the night, was swept back from her cheek, leaving her face unframed but for the fringe of bangs. She looked enormously appealing.
    He’d thought it was because of those big, dark eyes, and the way they dominated her expressive face. But the eyes were closed now, the face at rest.
    And she still looked damn good.
    Maybe it was her skin. Dora’s skin was like silk, smooth white silk faintly blushed with rose.
    He shook himself, both embarrassed and appalled by histrain of thought. When a man started thinking up metaphors about a woman’s skin, he was in deep.
    Jed walked over, set his mug on the nightstand, then sat on the edge of the bed.
    He could smell her—that carelessly sexy scent that always made his mouth go dry. Another problem, he decided, when a man fell into the obvious perfume trap.
    “Isadora.” He touched her shoulder over the thick quilt, shook lightly, as he had every two hours through the night to be certain she was lucid.
    She made a sound that was caught somewhere between pouty and annoyed, and turned over. The movement slithered the quilt down past her shoulders. Thoughtfully, Jed studied the flannel gown she’d chosen. It looked thick as a suit of armor and was an eye-popping blue. He made out two little pink appliqués that looked like pigs’ ears. Curious, he lifted the quilt. Sure enough, a fat pink pig face grinned back at him.
    He imagined she’d selected it because she thought it would be warm, and completely sexless.
    She’d been half right, he decided, and dropped the quilt.
    “Isadora.” He shook her shoulder again, then took hold of it to prevent her from turning aside. “Izzy,” he whispered close to her ear. “Wake up.”
    “Go away, Dad.”
    Grinning, he leaned closer and caught the lobe of her ear between his teeth. That had her eyes springing open. It also kindled a ball of heat in the direct center of her body.
    She blinked, focused, but before she could orient herself found her mouth thoroughly captured. Dazed, she lifted a hand to his shoulder, fingers digging in as the ball of heat erupted.
    “You awake now?” Jed murmured, and pleased himself by nipping lightly at her lower lip.
    “Oh yeah. Wide.” She cleared her throat, but her voice remained sleepily husky.
    “Who am I?”
    “Kevin Costner.” She smiled and stretched her shoulders. “Just a little harmless fantasy of mine, Skimmerhorn.”
    “Isn’t he married?”
    “Not in my fantasies.”
    Only a little miffed, Jed leaned back. “How many fingers?”
    “Three. I thought we established I was all right last night.”
    “We’re reestablishing it this morning.” Her eyes were heavy—sexily so, he noted. But the pupils were normal. “How’s the head?”
    She lay still a minute, taking inventory. Besides the tingling going on, there were aches. Entirely too many of them. “It hurts. My shoulder’s sore, too.”
    “Try these.”
    Dora looked down at the aspirin in his hand. “Two? Skimmerhorn, I take two when I break a nail.”
    “Don’t be such a wimp.” He knew that would do it. She scowled, took the pills, then the mug of coffee he offered.
    Irritation turned to surprise at the first sip. “Pretty good coffee. Almost tastes like mine.”
    “It is yours—your beans, anyway. I watched you do it once.”
    “Quick study.” Wanting to enjoy the moment, she plumped a pillow at her back and snuggled into it. “Did you sleep okay on the couch?”
    “No, but I slept. I used the shower. Don’t you have any soap that isn’t shaped like little flowers or swans?”
    “I had some sea horses, but I used them up.” She leaned forward, sniffed at him as she toyed with the dark blond hair curled damply over his collar. “Mmmm. Gardenia.”
    He covered her face with his hand and gently shoved her back.
    “Tell you what,” she offered. “The next time I’m out shopping, I’ll see if I can find some shaped like a littleweight lifter. With that appealing masculine aroma of sweaty gym socks.”
    With the mug cupped in both hands, she sipped again, sighed. “I can’t remember the last time anyone brought me coffee in bed.” Smiling, she tilted her head and studied him. With his hair damp from her shower, his chin shadowed with stubble and his eyes nearly as annoyed as they were beautiful, he made a very appealing picture.
    “You’re a tough one to figure, Skimmerhorn. You had to know with minimal effort you could have been in here with me last night.