The Private Eye by Jayne Ann Krentz Read Free Book Online Page A

and resigned himself to the inevitable humiliation of being found on the floor. “As long as you're here, you might as well give me a hand. Just get this stupid drapery off me.”
    “Of course. Josh, I really am sorry about this. Did you miss the step when you tried to get out of bed? Sometimes people get disoriented and forget how high these old beds are. You're not going to sue or anything, are you?”
    “That's a thought,” he muttered darkly.
    “It wouldn't do you any good, you know. The only major asset I've got is this inn and you probably wouldn't want it.” She started to lift the chintz fabric away from him and then paused abruptly just as she got it free of his face and shoulders. “Good grief.”
    “Now what?” He looked up and saw that she was staring straight down at him. She was blushing furiously.
    He also saw that her hair was down, forming a delightfully sleep-tousled cloud around her face. She had put on a quilted robe but hadn't taken the time to tie the sash. Tiny flowers and bits of lace trim adorning an old-fashioned, high-necked flannel nightgown peeped out through the opening of the robe.
    Maggie looked warm and cosy and ready for bed. In spite of the pain. Josh felt his body responding in an unmistakable fashion. He wondered idly why nature had made it possible for the male of the species to feel desire and pain simultaneously.
    “I'll get you a robe,” Maggie said in a small voice and promptly started to drop the draperies back down on top of him.
    “Wait. Damn it, don't bury me under that stuff again.” Realizing belatedly what the problem was. Josh managed a rueful smile. “Guess I should have warned you I sleep in my shorts, huh? Look, if this is too much for your maidenly modesty, just get out of here. I can take care of myself.”
    “Don't be ridiculous. I'll help you back into bed.” She swept the remainder of the fabric away from him and turned quickly to deposit it on the nearest chair. A small cloud of dust wafted upward. “I suppose I really should get these washed as long as they're down.”
    “Good idea.” Josh grabbed on to the edge of the bed and started to hoist himself up off the floor. The movement brought more protest from his ankle and ribs. He bit back another groan.
    Maggie whirled around at his small sound of stifled pain. The embarrassment in her gaze was immediately replaced by concern. She reached out to grasp his arm.
    “Here, lean on me. When we get you back on the bed, I'll run downstairs and get you some ice for that ankle. Would you like some for the shoulder, too?”
    Anger at the embarrassing situation in which he found himself swept through Josh, mitigating some small portion of the pain. “I don't need any ice and I don't need a nurse. Just leave me alone, okay? I'm not dying. Not even close.” It was only his masculine pride that was on the critical list, he decided.
    “No, but you are obviously hurting.” She released his arm as he heaved himself into a sitting position on the bed. “Just stay there. I'll be right back with the ice. Is there a robe in your closet?”
    “No. Don't own one.”
    “Oh. Well, I'll be right back.”
    Before he could stop her, Maggie was out the door.
    Josh swore under his breath and sat very still, waiting for her to return. As long as she was going for ice, he would be a fool not to use it. Hell of a way to impress a client, he reflected. Hell of a way to impress a woman.
    By the time he heard Maggie's returning footsteps on the stairs a few minutes later, the pain had receded to a dull throb in both ankle and ribs. He was going to live, after all. Josh told himself grimly as the door to his room opened. Furthermore, he had his raging hormones back under control.
    “Luckily we keep some ice bags around for emergencies,” Maggie said cheerfully as she came back into the room. “Just lie down and I'll put one on your ankle. I brought one for your shoulder, as well.”
    There was no point protesting. Josh