Chapter Four (scene)

Brianne closed herself in the bathroom and breathed deep. She splashed cold water on her face before getting her equipment set and ready for Jake. She entered the room, hoping she was more in control of her physical reactions to him. But she took one look at him fully clothed, realized she hadn't told him to undress for therapy, and accepted that given their situation, she'd rarely be in control.

She sighed, bracing herself for the inevitable. "If we're going to do this right, you need to take your shirt off."

As he reached for the hem of his ragged sweatshirt with one hand, Jake's eyes sparkled with mischief. He looked like a man who was about to be given his fondest wish, or rather a man who thought he was about to give her her fondest wish by stripping down in her presence.

She rolled her eyes. "Get a grip, Don Juan. It's a purely professional request. I can't very well heat your shoulder if you're wearing heavy cotton."

He laughed, obviously not the least bit offended. "Are you saying you don't want to see my bare chest?"

"I've seen enough bare chested men in my career. I'm sure yours is no different than the rest." She averted her gaze before he could catch her lie and see it in her eyes. His bare chest was spectacular.

"You wound me."

This time she laughed, but at the sound of his groan—definitely one of pain—she pivoted back towards him in time to see him grimace as he began to remove his shirt with his good hand, more help than she'd expected to see from his injured side.

She wondered what the hell was going on. "You said you haven't been in therapy."

He averted his gaze. "I never actually said that. I have a friend in physical therapy who gave me some exercises and checks in once in awhile. I've been working the shoulder some."

She wasn't yet sure how much exercise he had or hadn't been doing but after a session with him, she would. "Some exercise isn't enough."

He treated her to a sexy wink. "That's why I have you."

"I'm only as good as your willingness to follow through and you haven't guaranteed me anything yet."

"I'm not worried."

"Well I am." She stepped forward, intending to get past the word games and get started on therapy. "If I'm so good, then let me help you get that shirt off."

His gaze narrowed and Brianne could see the war going on inside him. She'd seen it many times before. Allow help and look weak or continue the struggle alone. Normally she'd let the internal struggle go on until the patient gave in but she sensed Jake wasn't one to cave easily. She now understood the reason for the cut-off sweat shirts. They allowed him wide sleeve room, easier movement, not to mention they gave him that sexy, masculine appearance she so admired.

She had every intention of returning him to full mobility, even if she had to play up to his masculine ego in order to maintain his cooperation. "Come on, Jake. I'm really good with my hands." Her voice dropped to a husky level despite her best intentions of remaining professional.

"I just bet you are." His eyes darkened as he spoke, his voice a deep rumble that set her nerve endings on fire. Her goals, the reasons why she shouldn't give in to this attraction diluted each time he got within touching distance.

Reaching out, she grabbed for the hem of his shirt. Without warning, her fingers grazed his warm skin. His stomach muscles rippled beneath her touch and he sucked in an audible, affected breath. She understood. Her body reacted in an intimate, sexual way too. Need curled deep in her belly and her nipples pulled into tight peaks, as if awaiting a lover's caress.

Never in her career had a patient session resonated with desire and her hands shook as she lifted his shirt up and over his head, exposing that exceptional bare chest for view. Heat emanated from his body to hers, drawing her in, enticing her to drop her guard and shed her inhibitions.