The Men of Medicine Ridge - Diana Palmer [57]
“Something nice and modest,” Vivian murmured, tongue in cheek, with a wicked glance at her brother.
“Good idea,” he said imperturbably. He paused at the door and that good eye twinkled. “And I’ll wear pajamas for a change.”
Vivian chuckled at Natalie’s flushed cheeks as Mack left them alone. “You’re in no condition for any hanky-panky,” she reminded her friend. “So stop worrying and just concentrate on getting well. You’ll never convince me that you won’t feel safer with Mack a few yards away in the night.”
“I will,” Natalie had to admit. “But I still feel like I’m imposing.”
“Family doesn’t impose,” her friend shot right back. “Now let’s get you into something light and comfortable, and then I’ll go and see what’s on the menu for supper. I don’t know about you, but I’m starved!”
It came as a surprise when Mack brought a tray to her room and sat down to have his supper with her. But other surprises followed. Instead of going to work in the study, as was his habit, he read her a selection of first-person accounts of life in Montana before the turn of the century. History was her favorite subject, and she loved it. She closed her eyes and listened to his deep voice until she fell asleep.
She’d been heavily sedated in the hospital and she hadn’t had nightmares. But her first night in a comfortable bed, she relived the stabbing. She was lifted close to a warm, comforting chest and held very gently while soothing endearments were whispered into her ear. At first it felt like a dream. But the heat and muscle of the chest felt very real, like the thick hair that covered it. Her hand moved experimentally in the darkness.
“Mack?” she whispered hesitantly.
“I hope you don’t expect to wake up and find any other man in your bed from now on,” he murmured sleepily. His big hand smoothed her hair gently. “You had a nightmare, sweetheart. Just a nightmare. Try to go back to sleep.”
She blinked and lifted her face just enough to look around. It was her bedroom, but Mack was under the covers with her and had apparently been there for some time.
He pulled her down and held her as close as he dared. “Did you really think I meant to leave you alone in here after what you’ve been through?” he asked somberly.
“But what will the family think?” she asked worriedly.
“That I love you, probably.”
She was so drowsy that she couldn’t make sense of the words. “Oh.”
“Which is why we’re getting married, as soon as you’re back on your feet.”
She wondered if painkillers could make people hallucinate. “Now I know I’m still asleep,” she murmured to herself.
“No such luck. Try to sleep before I do something stupid. And for the record, my sister’s idea of a modest nightgown is sick. Really sick. I can feel your skin through that damned thing!”
He probably could. She could certainly feel his chest against her breasts much better than she was comfortable doing. But she still wasn’t quite awake. Her fingers curved into the thicket of hair that covered his breastbone. “What sort of stupid thing were you thinking of trying?” she asked conversationally.
“This.” His hand found the tiny buttons that held the bodice together and efficiently slipped them so that she was lying skin to skin against his chest.
She felt her nipples go hard at once, and she gasped with the heated rush of sensation that made her heart race.
“That’s exactly how I feel,” he murmured dryly, “a few inches lower.”
It took her a few seconds to realize what he was saying, and she was glad that the darkness hid her face. “You pig!” she exclaimed.
He chuckled. “I can’t resist it. You do rise to the bait like a trophy fish,” he commented. “You’ll get used to it. I’ve been blinder than I look, but a lot of things became clear when that surgeon phoned me. The main one was that you belong to me. I’m not a perfect physical specimen, and I’ve cornered the market on dependents, but you could do worse.”
“There’s nothing wrong with you,” she said quietly. “You have a slight disability.”
“We both know I could go blind eventually, Natalie,