Total pages in book: 173
Estimated words: 174632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Sanity wasn’t her strong point, it seemed. After years of training to end up being the biggest disappointment in her family tree, she’d finally lost her mind at the young age of twenty-five.
Perfect.
The doorbell rang and she jumped. “I’ll just go get that.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” Ian replied. “You’ll sit here with that pressed to your foot. It will be Jameson. He can patch you up while you eat.”
Wonderful. Someone else to witness her humiliation.
Just what the doctor ordered.
Ian left the room as Jack worked at the stove. When Ian returned, he was accompanied by a blond-haired, incredibly gorgeous man. He looked a bit tired, his hair was a tad too long, and he had a five o’clock shadow on his face.
But none of that detracted from his beauty.
He wore a pair of dark jeans and a nicely-pressed shirt. Seriously, who looked that put-together at close to midnight?
“Are you a figment of my imagination?” she asked, her pulse racing.
Mr. Perfect raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Your imagination?
Do you often think about strange men?”
“Less often than I’d like to,” she said with a sigh. “You really remind me of someone. Have I seen you before?”
It was tugging at her brain, but she was too worn down to capture the thought.
“I think I’d remember seeing you,” he replied with a grin and a wink.
Ohh. So charming.
Prince Charming? No, that wasn’t who he reminded her of. Oh well, what did it matter when she had the real thing right in front of her rather than someone made up?
“Jesus, that was terrible,” Ian told him.
She frowned at Ian. “Don’t speak to him like that.”
“You . . . you’re defending Jameson?” Ian asked as though heard of something so preposterous before. “From me?”
“Just ignore him,” she told Jameson. “He has issues. Therapy would help him greatly, but I fear that he’s too stubborn to go.”
Jameson’s lips twitched. “As his physician, I could do an official assessment on him. But as his friend . . . I agree.”
“You’re friends with him?” She shook her head. “Now, I’m starting to worry about your mental health.”
A laugh escaped him. Both Jack and Ian gave him surprised looks, although she didn’t understand why.
Jameson looked like a man who laughed often. He was lightness. Happiness. Warmth.
“Do you want to do the job you were called here for?” Ian snapped. “Or are you just going to let her bleed out?”
“Yes, she looks like she’s definitely in danger of bleeding out,” Jameson said dryly.
“I’m not. It’s just a minor scratch. Ian’s overreacting. Another one of his issues.” She gave Ian a concerned look.
“I’ll make a note of it, sweetheart. Now, where are you injured?” Jameson asked.
“I cut my foot. It’s tiny. It just needs a Band-Aid.”
“How about I determine that since I’m the guy with the medical degree?”
Smart and sexy.
He was the total package.
“Hey, we’re still here, you know.” Jack waved his hand in front of her face.
For the first time since meeting him, the funny guy seemed irritated. Immediately, she felt terrible. What was she doing?
“Sorry,” she whispered.
Jameson shot Jack a look that she couldn’t decipher. Then Jack suddenly picked her up in his arms.
“Hey! What’s going on?”
“You need to sit at the table so you can eat,” Jack told her. “Jameson can come over here to look at your foot.”
Jameson followed without a word as Jack sat her down at the table. The pad she’d had on her foot fell to the floor. Jameson sat next to her and turned his chair to face her.
Grabbing her foot, he drew it up to inspect it. “We need to clean it first.”
Oh crap.
She had a dirty foot? How embarrassing.
“I’ll go have a shower.” She attempted to get up, but Jameson placed his hand on her thigh.
“Whoa, nope. You don’t need to move, sweetheart. Ian, can you get me some warm water in a bowl and a cloth?”
Ian nodded and strode away as Jack placed a plate of food in front of her. It had the hugest omelet she’d ever seen as well as four pieces of toast.
“Is all of that for her?” Jameson asked.
“Maggie. My name is Maggie.” What a dork. Why hadn’t she introduced herself already?
“Nice to meet you, Maggie.” Jameson held out his hand and she gave hers to him. He smiled and pulled it up to kiss it.
Smack! Ian whacked him on the back of the head with his elbow.
“Hey! What was that for?” Jameson asked.
“Accident. Sorry.” Ian placed the bowl on the table. He didn’t sound all that sorry, plus she wasn’t so sure that it had been an accident.
Jameson sighed and started washing her foot. Whoa. Who knew that having your foot touched could be so pleasurable?
“Eat,” Ian commanded.
Did he always have to bark at her? Couldn’t he see that she and Jameson were having a moment?