* * *
"Aren't you going to pick me up?" Janna asked innocently, and Brice wanted to groan. His pants were uncomfortably tight, and he knew that if he carried her up the stairs, she'd feel the erection he was trying to hide.
"I thought you were trying things on your own today," he countered. "I'm here if you need me. Just hold on to the railing and take it slow."
Janna sighed but nodded her agreement, then started up the stairs. She was making good progress, and Brice felt a warm feeling suffuse him. She was getting better, and he was helping. By the time they reached the second floor, she was winded but in good spirits.
"I did it," she said with a smile, raising her good arm in triumph. Unfortunately, the movement caused her to lose her balance, and she tumbled forward. Brice caught her, holding her pressed against him.
"Whoa," she said, and he wondered if she was commenting on her near fall or the raging erection that she must now feel pressing against her.
Brice took a step back and made sure she was steady once again. "Come on; you can make it the rest of the way to your room." Once inside, she sat down on the bed and dropped her crutch. He waited while she scooted up the bed so that her head was resting on the pillows. Brice grabbed a cushion from one of the chairs and gently lifted her leg, placing the pillow beneath it to elevate it higher than her head. "All settled," he said and turned back towards the door.
"What, no kiss?"
Brice felt a wave of heat flash through him. It was impossible to keep things platonic if she was going to tease him like this. It took all of his strength to limit his contact to a gentle kiss on her forehead. He saw her smile and close her eyes, and then he left the room.
Heading back downstairs, he had to adjust the crotch of his pants. Damn Janna for being the temptress that she was. It was getting near impossible to see her every day, to hold her, but not to touch her like he wanted to. Every night he dreamed of her, of making slow, passionate love to her. Every morning he woke, hard and frustrated. Still, it was better than not being able to see her at all.
As he pulled two salmon steaks out of the fridge and began making a marinade for them, he considered his predicament. The last few days had been especially difficult. It seemed as if Janna's guard was no longer up, that she was softening toward him. Today's teasing at lunch was just another example of her recent behavior. He smiled at the memory of her licking the mayonnaise off her finger. He wondered if this meant that she wanted him again if she was willing to give him a second chance.
Brice finished the marinade and put the salmon back in the fridge, pulling out a mixture of vegetables, which he set about washing and then chopping. He wasn't sure how he felt about things. Should he risk their comfortable comradery for a chance at the relationship she professed to no longer want? He wanted nothing more than to claim her again, to make her his and never let her go. But if he tried now, and he had misread her signals? There likely wouldn't be a second second chance.
It took him almost an hour to cut all the vegetables and return them to the fridge. Then it was time to see to the dessert preparations. The tiramisu he had planned had many ingredients, and the recipe required all of his attention. As he worked, he was amazed at how his skill had increased in such a short time. The internet was a godsend to someone who barely knew his way around the kitchen, and he planned to prove to Janna tonight that even a spoiled millionaire playboy could cook if he put his mind to it.
Another hour and he was putting the tiramisu cups into the fridge. He checked his watch and wondered if Janna was awake. Picturing her in bed sent a near-painful twinge to his cock. Better to push those thoughts away and concentrate on the table settings. The day had been unseasonably nice, with only a soft breeze blowing through the clouds. He decided to risk a change in temperature and eat outside. He made sure the table was clean, then moved a large vase of flowers for a centerpiece. Glancing at his watch, he decided it would be time to fire up the grill soon. Before he did so, he wanted to check on Janna.
He tapped politely at the bedroom door but didn't receive an answer. He wandered over to the bathroom, but it was empty as well. Finally, he found her in her study, paints in hand, working on a fresh canvas.
Janna hadn't been painting much since she arrived, and he was surprised to see her in here now. He walked up behind her, putting a hand on her shoulder and causing her to turn and burn his insides with her delicate smile. The canvas was a myriad of grays, blues, and greens, no doubt inspired by the ocean view before her.
"Did you have a nice nap?" he asked finally to break the silence between them.
"Not really. Couldn't sleep, so I decided to try painting."
" I'm going to start dinner soon, and I wanted to know if you needed anything."
"Nope," she said, her attention already returning to the canvas and view in front of her.
With a small smile, he left her to her painting, making his way back downstairs and gathering the needed supplies. Even if she stuck to her guns, even if she didn't want to give him a second chance, at least he could metaphorically impress the pants off her with his dinner.