Invitation to Provence by Elizabeth Adler Read Free Book Online Page B

steps. Jake followed her onto the unlit porch, hit the loose plank and felt his ankle twist agonizingly. “Jesus!”
    She turned to look at him. He was balanced on one leglike a stork. She wanted to giggle, but she could see he was in pain. “Oh god, I’m so sorry,” she gasped. “It’s that loose plank, I should have warned you.”
    “I wish you had,” he said through gritted teeth.
    She opened the door and helped him to the sofa, sat him down, knelt in front of him, slipped off his shoe, and ran her hand over his rapidly swelling ankle.
    Jake looked down at her pale blond head bent over his foot. Her fingers were cool and firm, very doctor-like. He thought it was almost worth the pain.
    She got to her feet. “It’s definitely not broken but it’s a bad sprain. If you like I can drive you to the emergency room, or I can strap it up for you. I’m pretty good at this sort of thing.”
    “I’d rather you did it,” he said. “I feel like the German shepherd,” he added, grinning, but she was all crisp medical efficiency.
    “You’d better get that foot up on the sofa. Here, I’ll put a cushion under it, and I’ll get an ice pack and an Ace bandage.”
    While she was gone, he took a look at her home, at the sagging chenille sofas and the green-check throws that looked remarkably like horse blankets, at the tufted red-velvet ottoman and the fifties flea-market coffee table. Only the armoire in the corner was good, a fine French antique if he wasn’t mistaken, and he wondered if Paul Marten had brought it with him to America all those years ago. Pottery jars spilled wilting flowers and scented candles were everywhere. Still, despite the general disarray, he thought it had a well-worn lived-in kind of comfort that wasn’t too far removed from that of his cabin. He definitely liked it and thought it suited her.
    She was back in minutes carrying a washbowl filled withice and water. She stuck his foot in it, grinning as he flinched. “I thought you were the tough-guy bodyguard trainer,” she said mockingly, then she went off to the kitchen, where he heard her filling the kettle and rattling dishes.
    When she came back she had her hair up tied in a black ribbon and a tray with two steaming mugs of tea, along with some pills and the Ace bandage.
    “Drink the tea,” she ordered. “It’s very soothing, makes you nice and relaxed. And take these pills, they’ll help kill the pain.” She knelt in front of him again, took his swollen foot out of the ice water, patted it dry, and began to bandage his ankle tight enough to make him wince.
    “All done,” she said finally, sounding like the efficient vet she was. “Now I’ll get you a proper ice pack and you’ll be fine.”
    “Thanks,” he said, meaning it, but also wondering how he would drive back to the hotel. And besides, he had to be in New York tomorrow.
    Franny returned with a bag of frozen peas, which she arranged over his foot. Then she closed the shutters, lit the candles, and put a match to the kindling in the grate. As the flames began to flicker round the apple logs, the smoky scent swept her right back to her Oregon childhood. She kicked off her sandals with a satisfied sigh. “There,” she said, beaming at him again with that easy smile.
“Now
we can relax.”
    “I’m sorry,” Jake said, trying not to be distracted by the fact that her skirt was hitched up over her knees—rather pretty knees at that, showing her long, slender legs, “I’m keeping you up late. I know you have to work tomorrow.”
    She came to sit next to him and lifted his bandaged ankleonto her lap, holding the frozen peas firmly over it. It was possibly the least romantic situation Jake had ever been in, but somehow that just added to her charm.
    Her eyes linked with his. “Hi,” she whispered.
    “Hi,” he whispered back and then somehow they were leaning into each other.
I shouldn’t be doing this,
Jake was thinking as he moved closer.
She’s gonna hate me when