* * *
The drive to the beach house was filled with disquiet. Chase had picked her up in the familiar black limousine, and she was surprised to find herself alone in the roomy interior. She'd expected Brice to be waiting for her in the back, and to have to put up with his smothering presence all the way to the coast. Instead, she was strangely disappointed to find him absent.
The miles rolled on as she sat, considering her predicament. She really did appreciate all the care Brice was showing her, and she didn't want to appear ungrateful. But the fact that he felt it was acceptable to dictate the conditions of her recovery riled her, and she didn't know how to let go of her anger. Although his daring rescue attempt made her insides burn with affection for him, even the memory of that moment, when he'd thrown down his weapons and been ready to sacrifice himself for her, wasn't enough to dispel her upset.
Janna wondered why his actions inspired such emotions. She was a capable, independent woman and didn't need looking after, right? Brice's treatment of her was another check mark for the "entitled elitist" column in the case she was building against her handsome millionaire.
All this time and she still couldn't decide if he fit the description or not. When he ordered a security team to follow her around, when he compelled her to spend her rehabilitation in circumstances of his choosing, it showed that he was used to getting his own way, no questions asked. But when he planned the perfect date, when he whispered passionate words in her ears during their lovemaking, she wavered. And when he'd risked his own life to save hers, that was not the action of your typical spoiled tycoon. Looks like the case wasn't as closed as she pretended it was.
She'd told him that her staying at his beach house didn't mean that they were resuming their relationship. And she wanted to stand by those words. But another part of her, the part that was tired of feeling inadequate, or worse, replaceable, the part that wanted to scream her desire from the rooftops, the part that wanted to spend every night in his talented arms, that part of her wanted to give him another try. Janna clamped down hard on that part of herself. She had to focus, to build up her armor because if Brice weren't here in the limo, he'd probably be waiting for her at the beach house.
They pulled up the long drive in front of a breathtaking Victorian home, and Janna noticed immediately that 007's silver bullet was parked out front. Brice was here waiting for her. As the limo came to a stop, he appeared on the wrap-around porch and jogged down to the car, pulling open Janna's door before Chase could make his way around to do it.
Before Janna could attempt to climb out of the limo, Brice was already wrapping his arms around her limbs, picking her up and walking her toward the entrance.
"Brice, I can still walk, you know?"
"Duly noted, Miss Puchina," he replied, but he didn't set her down. Instead, he climbed the steps up the porch and entered the house. "Welcome to your aftercare," he said with a cheeky smile, carrying her down the hallway and into a sitting room. "Living room."
Janna scanned the small room full of overstuffed furniture. It looked comfortable, decorated in muted tones that contrasted nicely with the polished hardwood. Before she could finish taking in her surroundings, he carried her into the next room.
"Office." She peeked her head into a room paneled in mahogany, bookshelves lining the walls, and a large desk dominating the decor. Then he was moving down the hall, walking through another part of the house.
"Dining area," he said, moving swiftly past a heavy walnut dining table with matching chairs. "And in here's the kitchen." He swept her into a light and airy room full of modern appliances.
"Slow down!" she said with half-mocking indignation.
"Got to give you the full tour." He brought them into the hall and up a flight of stairs.
"Brice, you don't have to carry me everywhere."
"I know." His green eyes were serious when they met hers. "But I want to."
Janna sighed. He wasn't going to make the separation easy.
"Besides, it would tire you out to have to walk on crutches around the house. Just a few more stops, and then I'll sit you down." At the top of the stairs, Brice moved off to the left and into a large room that was painted blue and decorated in creams, with billowy drapes surrounding a bank of windows that overlooked the ocean.
"Studio," she heard Brice say, then gasped when she noticed the easel and watercolor supplies. Before she had a chance to explore, he pulled her into another room, this one containing a claw-foot tub. "Bathroom," he said, and Janna thought the light in here rivaled the studio room. A row of windows set high in the wall allowed the sunshine to reflect off the gleaming features She had time to notice a porcelain pedestal sink and a silver chaise lounge, and then they were moving on.
"Last stop. Bedroom." The western wall was floor-to-ceiling windows; the sheer white curtains pulled back to reveal a breathtaking view of the sea. Brice set her down on the pillow top mattress, and she immediately sank into the softness.
"It's beautiful," she murmured, and he sat down beside her and pulled her hand into his.
"It sure is," he said, staring into her eyes.
Janna blushed and pulled her hand away. "Thank you for inviting me to stay here. I'm truly grateful."
"No need." He stood up and headed over to the doorway to meet Chase, who was bringing up her bag and crutches. Brice took the items and brought them over to her bedside. "Dinner will be ready in about an hour. Would you like to rest until then?"
"Yes," she said, not meeting his eyes.
"Good." He started moving back toward the door.
"Wait."
He returned to the bedside. She wanted to say so much, to discuss their status, to try and explain how she felt, but as his deep green eyes met hers, all those words deserted her. "Will the caregiver be here in time for dinner?" she asked lamely.
Brice gave her a smile and bent down to plant a soft kiss on her forehead. "Already here," he said. "Now rest, and I'll come and get you when dinner's ready." With that, he left. She heard his steps on the stairs, and then she was alone.
Janna scanned the room. It was large, the furniture was heavy wood, and the chairs scattered around seemed almost too fine to sit on. She bent to pick up her crutches. After being cooped up in the car, and before that the hospital, she had no desire to rest. Instead, she placed a crutch on either side of her. She tried to position one under the sling, but she couldn't move it around with her injured wrist. It would have to be one crutch or nothing.
With her able hand, she gripped the crutch tightly and attempted to stand. On her first attempt, she fell backward against the bed, her uninjured arm and leg refusing to cooperate with each other. After a deep breath she tried again, and this time she stood, wobbling slightly, but not falling.
"Okay, a piece of cake," she said, then began making her way slowly across the room to an old-fashioned chair, it's shiny satin covering alternating in cream and light blue stripes. The going was slower than she would have predicted. Janna was in excellent shape, with a runner's physique and stamina. But she felt like she was crawling across the room, the effort greater than she would have expected. Having one leg completely immobilized meant her weight had to be supported almost entirely by her other leg, despite the handy air boot. And the arm on that side was fastened tight to her chest by means of the sling, so her balance was thrown off. At last, she tottered close to the chair and let herself slide into it, breathing heavily.
The effort was exhausting, and she suddenly realized how grateful she was that Brice was offering to pay for a caregiver. Imagining how difficult it would be just to accomplish the usual activities of her day-to-day life for the next few weeks, she now saw why he had been so insistent on her not returning to the co-op. It would have been amazingly complicated, trying to get better on her own. Janna allowed her eyes to close as her breathing deepened. Maybe she could use a little rest...