“How does your ankle feel?” He placed his mug down by the fireplace and slowly peeled off her fuzzy hospital sock. Her ankle was still swollen to the size of her calf, and he frowned.

“The Motrin is really helping. I barely notice the throbbing,” she said cheerily, taking another sip of her adult beverage. “After this drink, I think I’ll be a happy camper.”

“You should have your bath once you’re finished. The front desk is sending up our bags, so you could change into something more comfortable after that.”

“Are you suggesting I slip into my lingerie for you?” Tara wiggled her eyebrows.

“Please try not to torture me. Put on the most modest, figure-obscuring clothing you have.”

“Party pooper.” She stuck out her tongue at him.

“There will be no parties tonight,” he said like a true party pooper, and wistfully stared at the tip of her red tongue. “You can’t even shift in your seat without wincing.”

“You can’t be serious.” Her eyes widened with disbelief. “I can handle it.”

“Oh, no you can’t, sweetheart,” he growled, letting his half-hooded eyes travel down her body.

Tara’s jaws went slack as she stared at him, her cheeks glowing pink. He bared his teeth in a wicked smile, quite pleased with himself. It was his turn to torment her a little. But before they could tease each other into a frenzy, they were interrupted by the arrival of their bags. Seth tipped the bellhop and closed the door behind him. Then he brought Tara’s duffel bag for her to sort through.

“I’ll get the water going for your bath.” He walked into the luxurious marbled bathroom with its Jacuzzi tub and separate shower. He raised his voice to be heard over the water. “You’re in luck. It’s a Jacuzzi tub. Do you want a bubble bath?”

“Ooh, that sounds heavenly,” she purred.

When Seth came out of the bathroom to get her, Tara was already standing on one foot, holding on to the back of the chair for balance. She hugged her change of clothes to her chest with her free arm.

“Can you help me get to the bathroom?” she asked.

“No, I’m just going to stand here and watch you army crawl over there.” She let go of the chair for a second to punch him in the arm. “Ow.”

“And I don’t want you carrying me there, either. Just let me lean on you and I’ll hop the few steps to the bathroom.”

“Sure, if you want the people below us to call the front desk for making a ruckus.” Ignoring her protests, Seth scooped her into his arms and carried her to the bathroom. Then he described the game plan as though it were a simple matter. “There’s a vanity stool you can use to … um … undress, but the tub is pretty high, so you’re going to need help getting in there.”

“I can manage,” Tara said quickly, blushing to the roots of her hair. Was she embarrassed or majorly turned on by the thought of being carried by him with only a towel between them? He was hoping for the latter.