“Let me go and get my bag first,” she said, then spun around and dashed back out the front door. She was soaked when she came back to a scowling Nick. She had no idea what she’d done now.
“What?” she finally asked.
“I’m just sick of being this incapable,” Nick said as he slammed his hand down against the arm of the chair.
“What do you mean?” Immediate concern filled her. After all, she was a therapist first.
“Never have I allowed a woman to carry her own bags before,” he grumbled.
His angry words made her smile, which shocked Chloe. She didn’t want to find an appealing trait about the man, but she couldn’t help it.
“I’m perfectly capable of carrying my own bags,” she informed him.
He reached over and took the handle from her, pulling the large suitcase to the side of his chair.
“I’ve got it from here,” he said. “Though I should have had it from the car.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Nick.” She tried getting the bag back. He wasn’t budging. They had a stare down until she was the one to break and look away.
His arm muscle bulging, he pushed the wheel of his chair, using his good leg to keep it straight while holding the handle of her bag with the other arm and tugging it beside him. She slowly trailed after him.
“Thank you.” It was sincere. Silence surrounded them then as she tried to force herself to move away from him. This was going to be a trying job. That was for sure. But the sooner she found what she needed, the faster she would get away from him.
Nick was almost at a loss as he led Chloe through his large home. The woman had shown up on his porch like a present from the gods. He wasn’t about to complain. Even with her uppity attitude, he was having more fun than he’d had in a while.
All it had taken was one look into Ms. Chloe Reynolds’s eyes, and he’d felt warmth invade him as his heartbeat elevated its pulse. He’d been turned on by women before―many, many times―but he’d never had that knee-weakening feeling that had been coursing through him from the second he’d opened his front door to find her standing there.
The spark between them was undeniable. She might be trying to act like it wasn’t there, but that only made Nick want to try that much harder to make her yield. She was guarded and stubborn all in one. She was a challenge.
Nick was a confident man―injured or healthy―and he certainly knew when a woman found him attractive. Chloe obviously did, whether she was willing to admit to that or not. It just made the game of cat and mouse that much more appealing.
Without the injury, he never would have met the physical therapist, which would have been a shame. He found her intriguing. It had been a while since someone had piqued his interest so quickly.
Chloe scowled at him as he led her down the hallway. Was she really this standoffish or was it him? He couldn’t imagine it being him―he was a hell of a guy, and women didn’t typically hate him at first sight. And Nick never stuck around long enough to give them time to change their opinions.
“Your house is big,” she said when they turned a corner and moved down the wide hallway.
“I’m a big guy,” he told her with a wink. She frowned. He stopped at the guest bedroom but didn’t want her to leave yet so he blocked the entrance as he searched his brain for something to say.
“Why don’t you tell me what we’re going to be doing?” he finally asked.
It took her a moment to adjust to his change of subject, then her face lit up, and he could see he’d gone in the right direction this time. If he spoke about work, maybe she’d open up. He knew he loved talking about his job.
“I’m an RN, with a specialty in orthopedics. I decided to move into physical therapy because I’m intrigued by the idea of fixing, through manipulation, what most people think is impossible to mend via surgery. I’ve studied your injuries, and you’ve done really well with most of your body, but I’ve been told you aren’t taking proper care of your knee,” she told him.
“I’ve been doing what the doc has told me,” he pointed out.
She sent him a wry glance. “I don’t think so. I know the doctor told you to use your crutches sparingly until you’ve had therapy. Your uncle said you don’t go to the chair often enough. If you try to do this on your own, it can lead to permanent injury. For me to do my job properly, you’re going to have to trust and listen to me. If you aren’t willing to do those two things, then there’s really no point at all in my being here,” she said with a stern expression.
Nick laughed, and that made her eyes narrow on him. He held up his hand. It had been a while since he’d laughed. It felt pretty damn good, he had to admit.
“I will do anything you want of me, Doll,” he promised.
“It’s Chloe,” she pointed out.
“I like Doll better,” he said with a waggle of his brows. She sighed in frustration. The woman was far too easy to rile up, which only made Nick want to do it more and more. It might be boredom, it might be lust, but whatever it was, he was glad his therapy would take time―and to think, just that morning he’d been pissed about it.
“I don’t care, that’s not my name,” she pointed out.
“Gotcha,” he said. “You’ll get used to it, though.”
Her cheeks were growing a very appealing shade of pink in her frustration. He decided he liked the color a lot. He bet her entire body blushed with excitement when she was turned on. He most definitely was going to have to see that for himself―and he didn’t want to wait too long. It had been months since he’d been with a woman, and he was more than ready.