“Hey—”

He gently tugged it off. “I know why you’re not married,” he said. “You’re too mean.”

“I’m not married because I’m unusually hard to hold on to. As I’ve mentioned.”

“Yeah. Handy excuse.”

“What?”

“You’re easy enough to hold on to, Emma.” Evidenced by the way he was holding onto her. “You just get restless and anal and uptight, and scare them all off.”

“Stone—”

“Emma,” he said, mocking her fierce tone. He reached for her drenched and very clingy sweater. She slapped his hands away, but that didn’t stop him from unbuttoning the three small pearl buttons.

“Okay,” she said shakily, crossing her arms over her br**sts. “This has gone far enough.”

“It most definitely has.” His eyes met hers, filled with humor and determination, and a surprising affection. “Though I’m starting to see past the usual chilly Dr. Evil exterior.”

She choked out a laugh. “Dr. Evil?”

“Dr. Fiercely Determined, then. Better?”

She looked into his eyes again and saw something else, to go with all the other things that had already overwhelmed her, and this one stopped her heart because it brought the night before to the forefront of her mind—as if it’d ever left!—Heat.

God, so much heat.

He stepped closer, his voice a husky murmur. “I don’t care that you scare men away, Emma. Or that I’m too laid-back for you. I don’t care that we tend to annoy the shit out of each other, and that while we’re at it, we also make each other hotter than a bonfire in July. You’re hurt. You know it, and I see it, and I’m not leaving here until I know how bad.”

She stared into his eyes for one more beat, saw the mulish stubbornness that matched her own, and let out a breath. Fine. Lifting her fingers to her sweater, she shrugged out of it herself, biting her lower lip at the pain in her ribs as she did so.

His gaze dropped, and though he didn’t say a word or move a muscle, she nearly slipped to the floor in a boneless heap from the sheer heat that blazed from him.

She looked down as well.

Her silky white top was wet and was plastered to her like Saran Wrap. It was also sheer, as was the white bra beneath it, leaving her pretty much completely exposed.

Letting out a low breath, he lifted his hands and set them on her waist, fingers spread wide, his touch light and almost unbearably gentle. “So how do we check to see if you broke a rib?”

“I don’t think I did.”

“So I suppose all you need is a Band-Aid.”

She met his smiling eyes. “At least you won’t have to give me a shot. I wouldn’t want you to pass out.”

“Ha ha.” His hands slid to the buttons and began to flick them open. “Let’s see what you did.”

The room was entirely silent except for her suddenly accelerated breathing, which she couldn’t seem to control.

His breathing wasn’t any too steady either as the backs of his fingers brushed her skin, or as he then peeled the top from her shoulders. With a soft hiss of a breath, he traced a long, work-callused finger over first one collar bone, then the other, where already a blossoming bruise was developing in the shape of the top half of the steering wheel. “Jesus, Emma.”

He crouched to look lower at her ribs and abs. He had a hand on her thigh, an innocent hand, bracing himself, but her mind went back to the last time he’d been in this position. How his hand had glided up her thigh, followed by his mouth—

“You got yourself good.” He straightened to his full height again, his finger running over her shoulder, catching on her narrow bra strap.

Which obediently slipped off her shoulder. “Stone.”

“You took care of me when I was hurt—”

“Yes,” she agreed. “Even though you lied about how you got hurt.”

“Admit it, you enjoyed thinking of me as a lazy ski bum.”

True enough. “So you thought you’d perpetuate the image?”

He smiled. “You sound so snooty when you’re pissy. I think it’s the New York accent.”

“I’m from here.”

His smile faded. “Yeah. You are.”

“For the record, I took care of you, because that’s what I do.”

“I know, but it’s what I do, too. Take care of people.”

She stared into his jade eyes, so clear, so utterly calm and steady, in a way she admired far too much.

“You’re already bruising,” he said quietly. “Let’s just do this.”

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” Her arms were trapped at her sides by the top that was hanging off her elbows, and she was glad because she had the oddest urge to wrap them around his shoulders. He’d touched her, put his warm hands on her, reminding her of what they could do. It didn’t matter that the touch wasn’t supposed to be a sexual one. Her body didn’t seem to get the memo.

Leaving one hand on her shoulder, he spread his other hand over her belly, which was rising and falling way too fast. “The bruising isn’t as bad here.”

Good to know. Not that she was feeling any pain, not with his hands still on her, his face so close to her br**sts he could have put his mouth on them.

“X-rays,” he said in a thick voice into the crackling silence. “You need them.”