“Look, Nick, I’m not some doe-eyed young intern. I’m a professional and I’ve helped NFL athletes so they didn’t have to retire, hockey players get back on the ice, given baseball players many extra years, and other professional athletes,” she told him. He opened his mouth to speak, and she held up a hand. “Not only have I helped many men like you who don’t think they need my help, but then are always incredibly appreciative when they get to continue their careers, but I’ve also worked with other doctors, nurses, and professionals who need to be on their feet all day. You’re very lucky to have me here doing this for you. I would appreciate you giving me the respect I’ve earned.”
Damn, he liked her sass. He was seriously going to enjoy their time together. Nick was sure this would be one therapist he’d have no desire whatsoever of chase away. He wouldn’t mind chasing her to his bedroom, but he’d save that for another day.
“I have the utmost respect for you, but you have to realize, too, that I’m not your typical patient. I like to push myself, and I don’t want kid gloves while doing it. I’m only going to get better if I don’t cry every time something hurts a little,” he told her.
“I’m the one who will tell you how far you can take it. We need to get that very clear right now or this relationship isn’t going to work.”
“Relationship? I like the sound of that,” he said.
“Professional relationship, Mr. Armstrong,” she reprimanded. He laughed again, and she scowled at him.
“I’m up for any type of pairing you have in mind,” he told her.
For a brief moment, Nick thought back to the week before when he’d been uninterested in dating or sleeping with any women. How quickly his mind could be changed, he thought with a crooked smile.
It hadn’t been that he’d been uninterested. He realized he’d been waiting for that spark he’d needed to ignite a full-blown fire. Nick felt more himself while the two of them faced off in his hallway than he had in months. Even before the accident, he’d been feeling restless, uneasy, like he was missing something.
Maybe all along he’d been waiting for this particular woman to step into his life. She’d soon learn that when given an inch, it didn’t take long for Nick to go a yard. And it felt damn good to know that, even if his leg wasn’t working properly, at least his libido was. He’d take all the wins he possibly could right now.
Their gazes locked together, and he saw fear in her eyes. It wasn’t fear of him, he was sure of that. Chloe was afraid of the scorching attraction between the two of them, a smoldering burning that no amount of water was going to be able to put out.
Nick also knew when it was time to relent for a while. He moved back a bit and pushed open her bedroom door. The two of them stood in the hallway as she looked inside with an unreadable expression.
“Get settled in, and then we’ll continue our discussion,” Nick said as he scooted back, leaving her bag in the doorway and allowing her access to the room. He stayed close enough that she would have no way of getting past him without brushing against his leg, but she tried anyway―and failed.
Grabbing her bag, she pushed it inside, then turned and looked at him one last time before wordlessly shutting the door without saying anything else. Only then did he turn around to head back to the main part of the house, a big grin on his face. Let the healing begin.
CHAPTER THREE
The morning light was shining in Chloe’s window far too early for her liking. Normally she was very much a morning person, but on this day, she knew she was going to have to spend it with Nick, and she also knew he wasn’t going to make it easy on her. No matter how much she tried to keep a professional distance, she had an inkling that the man had no idea what that concept even meant.
It was six in the morning, and she only had an hour to herself before the long day began. She jumped from bed, put on her jogging clothes, and crept from her bedroom, grateful when she didn’t see any signs of Nick being up and about.
Stepping from the house, she stretched her sleepy muscles, then began a slow jog through the trails surrounding Nick’s property. It was an exploratory run to empty out her mind and wash sleep away. She wasn’t trying to set any records.
But this morning Chloe wasn’t finding the peace she so desperately needed as she moved through the lush foliage of the forest surrounding Nick’s property. Her mind was uneasy as she thought about what she was supposed to be doing.
Nick had been the pilot of the helicopter that had crashed―giving her brother a burial at sea that he’d been too young to have. His body hadn’t been recovered, and the pain she felt from his loss still ate at her.
When Chloe’s father had found out she’d been hired to be Nick’s therapist, the man had flown into a rage, trapping her against the wall as his spit spattered her face, making that terror she’d felt as a child come back to the surface.
After his rant had ended―taking nearly an hour―he’d then gotten a look in his eyes that had scared her far worse than his rage. It had been cunning and calculating. He’d given her a stare that told her she’d best not disappoint him. Her father had said they could use this opportunity to dig up the evidence on Nick Armstrong the judge would need to send his ass to prison.
Nick was already guilty in her father’s eyes. They just had to make sure he wasn’t going to somehow get out of it. Chloe didn’t trust her father, but another crewman had stepped forward to say he’d seen Nick drinking the night he’d flown that helicopter out into the storm. If that was the case, then Nick was guilty of his crew’s demise―and he should pay for their deaths.