Floral essences tickled her nose to invite Bria back to consciousness.

Curiosity bloomed. Sabra’s senses picked up on the comforting, prevailing presence of another body nearby. The need to know who this was did more to encourage her eyes to open than the pleasant scents she’d been missing.

Sabra willed the fuzziness of sleep to recede and forced her eyelids to respond to her command. It took a few blinks to focus and adjust to her semi-familiar surroundings.

Still in the hospital-like bed from before, Sabra began to notice vases full of a lush assortment of fresh flowers. The biggest vessel sat on the night table next to her bed.

“You’re awake.” A familiar deep, rich voice filled the space, once again welcoming her back from the void.

Sabra looked over to see Colson’s long form sprawled over an oversized cushioned lounger next to her bed. She vaguely remembered the piece had resided in a corner across the room.

In the soft lighting of their surroundings, his features seemed slightly strained. Sabra eyed his striking cheekbones with interest. Where they more pronounced than usual? Not only that, was he wearing casual clothing?

Sabra kept silent as she took in the sight of the less formal version of Colson. What looked to be a cotton-blend long-sleeve clung to his broad chest. That chest tapered into a narrow waist that managed to reveal the imprint of a set of well-defined abs through the top. Easily passing as one of those too cool to exist in real life models, Colson sat up. Sabra traced the movement of his strong hand as he pushed back a wayward lock of hair from his brow.

The effect of his casual appearance cast Colson in a new light. He was a sexy-as-fuck candidate for her next boyfriend. Sabra couldn’t find the willpower to tear her eyes away from his hair. His usually coifed mane was a thick mass of sable raves tousled in a sexy array of freedom. He looked much younger as the youthful way his hair framed his face shed new light on his persona.

Slightly red-rimmed eyes gave away another fact Sabra hadn’t seen before. Even though he looked like he’d been recently awakened as well, Colson wore the look of fatigue.

The assessment rendered a verdict. Sabra had overstayed her time to the point of the man’s exhaustion.

“How long was I out this go around?” Her sense of time evaded capture. Bria once again tried to recollect the events that placed her at this current point in her stay here.

“You’ve been out for a while.” Not taking his eyes off of her, Colson added, “I gave you another sedative to help you rest and continue to heal. Your pain was too intense after you overdid it with walking on your injury.”

Unable to refute his assessment of what she’d done, Sabra focused on moving forward. She wanted to heal as soon as possible. “So, what time is it?”

Without glancing at a clock, watch, or phone, Colson said, “Seven fifty-three in the morning. Today is Monday.”

“I see,” was all Sabra dared to say as she struggled against tight soreness to sit up.

“Whoa, there, let me help you.” Colson was on his feet and next to her bedside in a flash, but not fast enough.

The biting sting of another IV stuck in the back of her hand rung a cry out of Sabra’s unused, and decidedly dry throat.

“What the hell? I see the torture needle is back,” she managed to thrust her hand Colson’s way. “Is this necessary?”

“Yes, it was,” he said, pouring a drink of water from a pitcher on the table next to the flowers and passing it to her. “Drink up.” He waited as she downed the glass and gave it back to him. “Good, do you want another one?” he asked referring to the water. When she shook her head no, he continued. “I didn’t want you to continue having pained muscle spasms. Your body needed a break and time to heal without agitation.” He considered the needle and added, “Plus, I needed to make sure you got the necessary fluids and nutrients while you rested.”

“You can take it out now. I want to go to the toilet.”

Colson seemed to consider her request. “Let me change out your IV for a portable medicine patch. It won’t be as potent. That way I can continue to back you down from the muscle relaxant—pain relief cocktail you’re on.”

The sting died down enough for her senses to respond to other stimuli. Colson’s decadent aroma pushed its way to the forefront of her awareness. Sabra focused harder on her train of thought. Why did he have to smell so good?

Her words jumbled together in a clumsy attempt at reason. “Whatever I’m on must not be all that powerful. I don’t feel like I’m on any pain meds.” Her goal was to sound intelligent and convincing. She failed.

“You’re right. I’ve been lowering your dose to the minimum needed to offer comfort without completely dousing your body’s ability to feel.” Adjusting her bed linen to reveal her thigh, he added, “You’ll begin to feel muted pain. We have to start your rehabilitation today. That and I don’t want to create a craving in your system for the meds.”

“You mean you don’t want me getting hooked on the painkillers.”

“Yes, that is another way of saying that.”

“Don’t worry. I’m more than ready to do whatever it takes to get on the mend.” Seeing an opening to let him off the hook of providing round the clock care she seized the opportunity. “It’s time I get back to my life and start unraveling the last three days.”

“Right, about that.” He stopped pressing and massaging her thigh to capture her complete attention. “I would like to help you. I just have to take care of some other matters, and then I’ll be at your beck and call.”

Unable to know how, but Sabra could almost trace the invisible thread between them. She knew he omitted something.

“What aren’t you telling me?” She watched his every move as the handsome man worked to remove her IV.

He finished removing the needle and moved to the foot of her bed. There he discarded the waste in one of those medical disposal units. Sabra said nothing as she watched him open the walled-off closet to retrieve more supplies.

With a small box, another brace, and other supplies in hand, Colson moved again. Sabra watched as he glided with that mesmerizing fluid grace of his to rejoin her side.

“I’m saying that today we start your rehab. Aren’t you ready to leave this room?”

“Duh—yeah. Didn’t I say that I’ve got to be back home and on my life hustle?”

“Oh, that’s what you meant?” he asked as if trying to piece together her previous words with a new concept. “Give me a moment to apply your patch, and I’ll get you to the bathroom.”

Leaning away from her injured thigh on the side of the bed, Sabra held still as Colson did his thing. He removed the thigh brace that had reappeared while she had been knocked out. Colson then placed what looked like a see-through mesh patch on her upper thigh at the pain site.

He took his time massaging the skin. Colson avoided the small area where the patch was. He explained that he was stimulating blood flow to her thigh. He needed to do this before attempting any other movements. Moving her might trigger or aggravate the injury. Oblivious to what might happen, Sabra bit back a soft moan of delight. His hands felt fantastic. Familiar tingles of energy flowed through her leg to make it feel right as rain.

Before she could stop, Sabra’s hands rushed to check the status of her undergarment situation. As suspected, her bra was gone, but panties intact. At least that was progress.

“I see you did away with my bra again.”

“No wires. You know that. It had underwire. I told you, no wire while you sleep.”

“Ain’t that about a bitch? Didn’t we talk about privacy?”

“Yes, and we agreed that I was to do what was medically reasonable too,” he quipped.

“But, my bra? It was so pretty,” she whined. Sabra crossed her arms over her freely swaying breasts in a pout. “Why won’t you let me live with some dignity?” she asked with a little laugh.

“You have plenty of dignity.” The laughter tinting his voice did nothing to help the situation. “You’re also very blessed, too.”

Did he just refer to her breasts as blessings?

Determined not to devolve into a bumbling idiot unable to hold her own in a situation that may or may not be casual flirting by a fine as fuck man she’d love to—you know—do it with, Sabra held her breasts firm under her arms.

The silky fabric of Bron’s rose-gold Moo-Moo did little to hide anything as her plump mounds strained against the fabric like overstuffed pillows.

She caught Colson’s eyes fixated on the effect with a hint of pleasure if the way his eyes darkened were an indicator.

“Do you know where it is?” she asked, trying to steer the conversation back to the shore of her comfort zone.

“Where what is?” he asked, obviously continuing to stare at her chest.

“My bra.”

“It’s in the bathroom on top of that pile of supplies and clothing Bronwyn left.” Colson finally looked up to pierce her eyes with a provocative stare down. “Besides, I don’t understand what’s the problem with sleeping without a bra.”

“You don’t because you don’t have these,” she said. Sabra hated that her breasts swayed along with her slightest movement. Their large size made them move like bowling balls under the Moo-Moo.

To her relief, Colson didn’t flinch or comment on the crude gesture. She was about to say something else when it happened.

Colson sat down on the edge of the lounger. The air stilled as he leaned in close enough to touch noses with her if he wanted to. The man whispered, “I do what I want.”

“Which is?” she managed to get out. This was before Sabra’s ability to move, breathe, or hell, blink went the way of a toddlers’ swimsuit competition after snack time. Awful.

His body heat blanketed her in a hypnotic enchantment that begged for action. She wanted to touch, connect, and be with him so bad, it almost hurt. She waited for his next move. Sabra burned through enough willpower to stave off a stampede of pageant moms at a Beauty Supply Store clearance sale.

Her deep breaths stopped. They caught in her throat. Then they transformed into shallow, phantom breaths of excitement. Colson continued to hold sway over her entirety. Sabra fought to stay calm and make herself respond like a mature woman.

Gray eyes, etched with expressions so intense she could feel them, seduced Sabra. They commanded her to stay in the cocoon of their shared intimacy. Then her eyes went all slutty and stared at his full lips.

Was that a magnet, gravity, or her stupidity pulling her in closer? Nothing audible dared transpire between them. Colson held Sabra suspended in a sexy trance of his control.

The clean but spicy musk of his natural scent played havoc with Sabra’s grasp on logic and reason. Her chest heaved in response to the way his breath kissed the cupid’s bow of her upper lip. Invisible electromagnetic impulses scintillated and coursed between and through them. The couple held fast to the moment.

Sabra’s head tilted to the side of its own power in anticipation. Her eyes closed as Sabra’s other senses came to the forefront. The scent of pure masculine compatibility flooded her nostrils. Her eyes picked up the thudding sounds of her heart pounding as it reacted to the moment.

A hair’s breadth was the best way to decide the near brush of lips she felt as he moved to whisper in her ear.

His beard tickled her cheek as he positioned himself and said, “Make sure to tell me if it hurts.”

Confusion deflated her arousal as the words snatched her out of the moment.

“If what hurts?”

“Your thigh. I’m about to pick you up to go to the bathroom,” came his easy reply.

Damn it to hell. She’d been wrong again. This man wasn’t coming onto her, he’d been moving in to ease her off the bed.

Anger flared her ugly head before Sabra could lock her back down. And here she was about to apologize. Why had she believed Bronwyn about him having intense feelings for her?

“Move, I’ve got it. Didn’t you say you have crutches for me to use? I might as well start now.”

Instead of responding or taking the hint to get the hell on away from her, Colson moved back in position. He stared at her face, smiled, and looked over at the phone resting on the table by the bed.

In total indifference to her request, he said, “Bron made sure to leave the phone charger here. From the frequent vibrations and flashing screen, it looks like you have lots of calls and texts. Seems like your friends are looking for you.”

Self-control rebounded to take over as Sabra considered how to proceed. Satisfied with herself, she allowed the measured words full of etiquette and poise to flow forth. “Yes, looks like I do. Give me a moment to check and return messages.”

He leaned back, reclined on the lounger with his legs slightly apart. Was he going to sit here looking at her with his legs in open invitation? Instead of giving into the racing thoughts and emotional confusion, Sabra focused on her phone.

Forty-eight text messages and eleven voicemails waited. One had come in a few moments ago. Sabra started with the text messages. She figured Chloe and Tilar would use that mode of communication first.

Sure enough, both women had been trying to contact her. She fired off text messages with an update and assurance she was on the mend. Next, Sabra listened to phone messages. Colson continued to sit and wait with a look of utter contentment on that chiseled face of his.

The bulk of the messages were from Chloe swearing and threatening to call the FBI if she didn’t call her back. There was one from a former client asking if she could do a quick job. The date had already passed on Saturday evening, and then there was the last call.

Sabra had to remember to breathe as Doctor Nina Hassenberg’s voice purred through the phone. The doctor said Sabra’s presentation had been the most successful the Atlanta campus had ever experienced. It was Doctor Hassenberg’s next statement that had Sabra trembling with excitement.

Sabra had to remember to breathe. The other woman said that she'd received grants totaling two-hundred eighty-five thousand dollars. Sabra had to replay the message. This time she paid close attention. Doctor Hassenberg gave her contact information. She urged Sabra to contact her to receive the grant disbursements.

She erased all the messages except for Doctor Hassenberg’s. Sabra looked up to see Colson staring at her with a lazy grin on his face.

“Is all well with your friends?” he asked as if knowing they’d been the majority of the calls.

“Yes, they’re fine. It’s me they were concerned about.”

Another flash of her phone showed incoming texts. Both Chloe and Tilar demanded calls while expressing relief. She took a moment to send texts promising to call when she had an opportunity. Her fingers flew over the keyboard explaining that she was with the doctor at the moment.

Chloe wanted to know where she was. Tilar sent a strange text reply saying that it looked like the High Priestess had been busy. Not wanting to prolong this awkward situation any longer, Sabra set her goal. She'd get up and going—today. She wanted to call Doctor Hassenberg about the grants ASAP!

“Well, let’s get after it, shall we? It is Monday morning. I’m sure you have to get ready for work,” she offered, infusing the statement with a cheery disposition.

“I work from home, and you’re my main concern for now.”

What the hell did that mean—for now?

Deciding to let that pass and cut her embarrassment to a minimum, she countered. “Great, then you’ll be able to get back to your routine as soon as I’m gone.”

“It’s my opinion that you’re not ready to put too much weight on that leg. Give yourself at least another few days off that leg to give the muscle time to continue to repair itself.”

“You don’t say,” she eyed the man looking for more than the genteel smile that rode his face. “What about my office stuff? I need to get to my storage unit to organize it.”

“I had your things brought here to the guest house out back.”

“Oh,” flummoxed by the answer, Sabra scrambled for another point to voice her case. He needed a good reason to discharge her from his care and get back to his life. Sabra needed to give him one. Before she could come up with a reasonable comeback, Colson opened his arms as if in welcome.

“Ready to get up?”

The grant news, her office equipment being here, needing to call her friends, and the persistent attraction she battled with over Colson had taken a toll on her brain's bandwidth.

Sabra gave the most straightforward reply she could muster. “Yeah, I am.”