Page 10 of Wild For You

Chapter Four

Cash

It’searly morning when I head into the kitchen. Last night’s encounter with my new physical therapist has left me in a strangely good mood. There’s something about her eyes and the stubbornness displayed in them that amuses me.

It’s been so long since a woman’s challenged me the way she does.

I’m not used to women taking charge. At least not outside of the bedroom.

And then there’s also the fact that she’s crazy attractive. It’s been too long since I’ve actually had to chase a woman.

Too long since I felt the buzz, the thrill of the chase, the satisfaction that comes with conquering her. Whatever this is, it’s a nice change from my usual routine.

She didn’t like the memo, but her reaction to it was surprisingly calm. It was supposed to drive her away. That she’s decided to stay and put up with me is baffling.

When the door swings open, I turn around to regard her with a fake scowl on my face.

“Good morning to you, too, Mr. Boyd.” She frowns when I say nothing.

What’s with the Mr. Boyd stuff?

I’m still watching her as she walks past me to get to the sink. She’s dressed in the same boring attire as last night, but in the light of day she looks even more fragile. Usually, I don’t pay attention to such banalities, but her haunted look stops me from appreciating the generous swell of her breasts clearly contoured beneath her matronly top.

“Coffee?” I point to the coffee maker.

“No, thank you. I was just getting a cup of tea,” she mumbles, avoiding my roaming gaze. I notice the box she’s carrying in her hand and raise my brows, waiting for her to explain.

Ignoring me, she goes on to boil water. But her tense shoulders reveal her nervousness around me.

Or maybe she’s still pissed.

“You brought along your own tea?” I ask.

“It’s a special blend.”

“What is it? Tea that promises your clients will walk over water?”

She turns around, and the defiant glint from last night is back in her eyes. “No, it’s just green tea. Organic. From protected forests.” She leans forward, leaning against the counter, and I can’t help but throw a fleeting look at her breasts. “Did you know that harvesting tea often involves child labor and slavery?”

“No, but enlighten me,” I say sarcastically.

“You’re not interested in hearing more?”

I shrug. “You want me to care what happened out there while I was in a wheelchair? While I could still end up in a wheelchair? I’m sorry, but I don’t give a fuck.” Silence fills the air, and I realize that my comment was a bit harsh. Of course, I care what happens in the world, which is why I support several charities. I just don’t need to be reminded that the world’s one fucked-up place in general.

“You want some?” I ask and take a bite of my ham and cheese sandwich, my gaze brushing over her disheveled hair and the flash of nerves flickering in her blue eyes.

“No, thank you.”

“You don’t eat?” Without waiting for her reply I push a sandwich toward her and watch as she gazes at it longingly. Our brief interaction last night had her running for her bedroom, meaning she probably skipped dinner. I feel bad, but on the other hand I can’t be friendly to her or else she’ll want to hang around to ‘help’ me.

I don’t need anyone’s help.

“I’m fine,” she mumbles.

“Come on. Take a bite. I promise it’s not poisoned.” My comment doesn’t garner me the smile or giggle I expected.

I expect her to decline again, when she grabs the sandwich and takes a ginger bite, chewing slowly.

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