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Authors: Jill Shalvis

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BOOK: Tangling With Ty
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It made a loud creaking sound, but Nicole, standing just inside her front door, never looked up. Ty re
alized this was because she had on a set of headphones, which, given the volume of her singing—so off-key he had to smile—meant she couldn't hear anything.

Before he could attract her attention, she'd kicked off her shoes, then crossed her arms in front of her and whipped off her top.

She wore a tiger-striped bra—did she have any idea how sexy her secret lingerie fetish was?—and then put her hands to the button on her pants. Oh, boy. “Nicole!” He was barely braced on the studs now, but he leaned over way farther than he should, knowing he had to make her see him or she'd be good and pissed by the time she was naked, and generally he liked his women soft and smiling and mewling with lust when they were naked.

Still singing, she shucked her pants, kicking them across the room with an abandon that normally would have made him grin.

Her panties did not match her bra. They were purple, lacy and very, very tiny. Turning in circles in a little shimmy of a dance, she headed toward her bedroom, giving him a good, long look at her backside as she wriggled and shook.

“Oh man,” he whispered to himself, and leaned out as far as he dared. “Nicole—”

He crashed right through the ceiling. The air
whipped his face; the floor rushed up to greet him, but all he saw was a tiger-striped bra and purple lace panties.

 

N
OT MUCH SCARED
Nicole. But Ty falling through her ceiling shook her to the core. By the time she reached him, which took longer than it should have since she wasted five seconds just staring at the huge mass of him on her floor, he hadn't budged.

“Oh my God, Ty.
Ty.

He was on his side, face gray through all the dry-wall dust. Dropping to her knees at his hip, she leaned over him. “Ty, can you hear me?”

Nothing. But she could see his chest rising and falling, and she nearly sobbed in relief. “Okay. You're going to be okay. You are.”

Surging up, she grabbed her portable phone, dialed for an ambulance; calm, cool, in control. As she always was in an emergency.

Then she looked down at the big, handsome, far-too-still man on her floor and wanted to fall apart. Her hands shook as she gently put them on him. What to do? God, what to do? Every ounce of medical training she'd ever had flew right out the window. “Damn it, get it together, Nicole.” She ran her hands down his limbs, frowning at his right ankle. Not broken, she didn't think, but already swollen. Then she got to his right side, and the possibly cracked ribs, and had to take a deep, calming breath. “You're go
ing to be okay,” she whispered, having no idea which of them she was talking to.

There was a huge knot forming on his head, and he hadn't regained consciousness. “Ty.” She cupped his face, his beautiful, too-still face, with the long dark lashes and strong, sharp jaw. “Come on, Ty. Come back to me. Wake up.” She checked his pupils. Uneven. Concussion, if he was lucky. “Please, Ty. Please wake up. For me, do it for me, okay? Wake up and I'll—”

He groaned. Coughed. Rolled from his side to his back and groaned again, eyes still closed. “Shh, darlin',” he said in a rough whisper. “It's too early to be yelling.”

“Ty.” Her eyes burned with the relief. “You're back.”

“You…didn't finish your sentence. What will…you do…if I wake up?”

That he could joke, even now, horrified her. Then he tried to sit up, his face in a grimace of agony as he held his head.

“Don't move,” she said in a rush, helping him lie back. He'd turned green. “You might have broken something, at the very least your big fat head.
Don't,
” she repeated when he kept trying. “Just hang on a damn second.”

“Shh,” he begged, eyes still closed. “No noise.”

“Are you nauseous?”

He cracked one eye open, ran it over her, then closed it again. “I am, yes. Though I refuse to puke on the very lovely underwear you're wearing. You're so pretty, Nicole.” He sighed, then went utterly still and silent, terrifying her.

“Ty!”

“Yeah, here.” He didn't open his eyes. “Did you know that when you say my name in that soft, sexy voice of yours, I almost wish we were going to go for it. You and me.”

“Ty—” But a sudden pounding at her front door had her leaping up, reaching for her clothes. “Hold on!” she called, hopping back into her pants.

“Nicole?” Taylor knocked louder. “Honey, what was that crash?”

Nicole pulled on her shirt and hauled open the door. “Ty fell through my ceiling. The ambulance is coming. Oh, God, Taylor, look at him. He hit his head, he's concussed, and I can't remember what to do!”

Taylor grabbed her hand and ran toward Ty. “Oh, you poor, big, sexy baby. You're not going to be sick all over my floor, are you?”

Ty choked out a laugh that ended on a groan and some fairly inventive bad words.

“Don't make him talk,” Nicole begged, ridiculously panicked. It was just a bump on the noggin. Lord knew, his head was hard enough to handle it.

Taylor grabbed Nicole's shoulders and gave her a little shake. “I'll go wait for the ambulance. Stay with him.” She hugged her hard. “It'll be okay, honey.”

“That's my line,” Nicole whispered as Taylor ran out, leaving her with the big, bad, broken Ty lying at her feet.

7

N
ICOLE WENT IN
the ambulance with Ty. Took him into ER herself and spewed out orders.

Hovered and tried not to wring her hands. Tried to focus on what she was doing. They took care of his bruised ribs, his sprained ankle. Noted his concussion, which worried her the most.

Yes, his head was big and hard. But damn, he'd hit it hard.

She dealt with the staff and their curious expressions, knowing she'd shown her hand when she'd yelled out directions in a wobbly voice.

She'd never yelled while on duty.

Well, the staff would get over it. The question was, would she?

She filled out Ty's paperwork, which was more time-consuming than she'd ever realized, being on the other side of the fence for the first time.

Taylor was in the waiting room, looking unusually scattered and stressed. Suzanne was there too, leaning on the tall, dark, gorgeous Ryan, who had his arms around her in a way that made Nicole take a
moment. Had she ever leaned on a man like that? Ever had a man who wanted her to? Ever been offered true affection from a man?

Nope. But then again, she'd never wanted such things. She didn't want them now. Not when she was strong enough to stand on her own two feet.

When she could convince them to go, she sent Taylor, Suzanne and Ryan home, promising them Ty—and his hard head—was in good hands and going to be fine.

And he would be. She would see to it, all by herself.

 

T
WO HOURS LATER
, Nicole sank to the cot at Ty's hip and stared at the sleeping, still far too pale man.

With the proper care and rest, he was going to be fine.

But when was
she
going to be fine?

He'd gotten under her skin. There was no other excuse for her ridiculous panic at the apartment. None.

Outside the cubicle, machines bleeped, footsteps squeaked, voices carried, some raised, some hushed. There were smells too: antiseptics, medicine and the scent of fear and pain. Normal ER sounds and smells.

But inside the cubicle, life seemed suspended. It was just the two of them, one unconscious, the other wondering what had happened to her life. Lightly, she reached out and touched the bandage on Ty's
head. “You scared the hell out of me, Ty Patrick O'Grady,” she whispered.

“Of Dublin,” he said in a heavy Irish brogue without opening his eyes.

Had he really spoken, or was she hallucinating on top of everything else? “Ty?”

“You scare me, too.” His voice sounded raspy, and more than a little goofy from the drugs they'd given him for the pain. “You and my sister both. I have a sister, did I tell you?”

“No.” She covered her mouth to keep her hysterical, relieved laugh in. “You haven't told me much about yourself at all.”

“She found me on the Internet. Wants to know me. Everyone wants to know me.” His words were slurred, but the Irish lilt was unmistakable. So was his sudden crooked grin, though he still didn't open his eyes. “You want me, too, don't you, doc? You want me as much as I want you. Say it for me.”

Her heart leapt in a new sort of panic. “Keep your mouth zipped, you big idiot, you're drugged.”

“Is that why my body is floating away from my head? Your head is floating, too, doc. You're so pretty. Makes me wish I could stay in one place for once, you know that?”

“Please…please, shut up or you're going to say something you'll regret.” She wanted to run, and she wanted him to keep talking.

“You do want me. I know you do.”

How the rough-and-tough man could lie there looking so adorable in his cockiness was beyond her. “Ty.”

He let out a long sigh. “Maybe that's just me with all the wanting then.” He sighed again. “You're screwing with my head, all three of you.”

Three?
He was worse off than she'd thought. That, or he'd had too many drugs. Leaning in close, she checked his pupils, making him grin. “I'm okay, darlin'. Sweet of you to worry though.”

She sat back. “This sister…you talked to her?”

“She wants a family, but who the hell needs family? I don't need anyone. I haven't since I was fifteen and on my own.”

She went very still on the outside while her heart did a slow roll. “That still only makes two, Ty. Your sister and me.”

“But then there's
her.

“Her who?” If he said he had a wife she'd have to kill him.

“My mother. She didn't want me. I probably never told you that.”

Nicole sighed and put her hand on his chest. Her own ached like hell. “No.”

“I'm a bad seed. Probably should have warned you before now, but I didn't want to scare you off. The truth is, you name it, and I did it. Stole clothes, stole
food— Am I upsetting you?” he asked, opening his eyes to see hers welling up.

“Ty.
Rest,
” she begged, wanting to wrap herself around him.

“Can't. There's someone jackhammering in my head. I didn't even know I had a sister.”

“I know,” she said in response to his baffled voice, stroking him with her hands, trying to quiet him because she didn't want to hear this, didn't want to know about him because, damn it, how was she supposed to keep her distance if she knew about him? “Please, Ty, I want you to—”

“I don't want to like her.” After that statement, he was quiet for so long she thought he'd fallen asleep, and she just sat there, soaking him up. She'd imagined he'd had a rough childhood, but she hadn't imagined it as bad as it must have been. Because she couldn't help herself, she touched him, ran a hand over his arm, his jaw, wishing she could take his pain as her own.

“You feeling sorry for me, doc? Cuz if you are, I'm going to tackle you down right here, right now, and kiss us both stupid.”

“You're in no position for tackling, much less kissing.”

“Try me,” he warned, and reached for her, missing by a mile. “Damn.”

“Ty.” She touched his pale, pale face. “Lie still.”

“Yeah.” Sweat broke out on his forehead. “Lying still now.”

“Good, because you've got to save your energy for healing. You need to—”

“Nicole? Darlin'?” He closed his eyes tight. “I'd love to hear the lecture, really. But if you don't mind, I'm going to puke now.”

 

T
HE NEXT TIME
Ty opened his eyes, he was still in a damn hospital bed. Still in a far-too-small hospital gown with no back. Still feeling green and shaky and in too much damn pain to believe that the shot some mean nurse had given him a short time ago had worked.

He hated hospitals with an unreasonable vengeance, and had ever since he'd been twelve and was beaten within an inch of life. His own fault. He'd broken into a restaurant, only to get caught by the owner as he'd been stuffing his face with food from the fridge. Didn't matter that he'd been starving, or was a skinny little runt, the guy had gone berserk. The beating had landed Ty in the emergency room, where he'd been treated like little more than the wild animal he was. Once there, he'd barely outwitted the juvenile authorities. All he remembered, when he let himself think about it, was a vicious, snarling, vivid, Techni-color pain and the bitter stench of his own fear.

Now, being in another hospital brought it all back, quite unpleasantly.

Nicole's face floated into view above his own: her wide, expressive gray eyes, the short-cropped hair that so suited her arresting face, and the silver hoops up one ear. Then there was that mouth, with the full lips he so enjoyed nibbling on.

Another hallucination? He'd had some doozies since he'd been here, all of them involving her tiger-striped bra and purple panties.

“Hey,” she said, sounding very doctor-like. She wore a white coat and had a stethoscope looped around her neck. How official. “How are you feeling?” she asked. “Still nauseous?”

In all the other hallucinations, she hadn't talked, she'd just smiled all sultry-like and had bent over his body, giving him pleasure such as he'd never known. “I like the other outfit better,” he said, closing his eyes.

“What?” She put her hand on his forehead.

She thought he was still out of it. “Never mind. Let's blow this Popsicle stand.”

“No can do.”

He stopped in the act of tossing his blankets aside. “Doc?”

She clutched a clipboard to her chest, looking very in control in her own environment. Bully for her, but he wanted control in
his
own environment, thank you
very much, and lying flat on his back in a scanty gown wasn't doing it for him.

“You need to stay overnight for observation, Ty.”

“I don't think so.” He sent her a tight smile. “Hand me my clothes.”

“I mean it.”

“So do I. Hand me my clothes or get an eyeful, and believe me, the gown hides nothing.” Carefully, trying not to let out the pathetic moan he wanted to, he got himself in a sitting position. His ribs were on fire, so was his ankle, and his head…well, the pain in his head didn't bear thinking about because if he did, he was going to toss his cookies again. Since the good doctor, sexy as hell in all her disapproval, was glaring at him instead of handing him his things, he put his feet to the floor.

“Ty, don't be stupid.”

“More stupid than falling through your ceiling, you mean?”

“You're still drugged. You can't get yourself dressed much less get yourself home.”

“I don't feel drugged.”

“Really? How many fingers am I holding up?”

He squinted at her hand. She had no fingers. And now that he took a good look, her head was separated from her body. A shame, really, because it was such a beautiful head. Bossy and stubborn, but beautiful.

“Ty? How many?”

“I'm not sure. But I can tell you you're wearing a tiger-striped bra and purple silky panties.”

She didn't look amused.

Ty returned to his efforts of getting up. He looked at his ankle. Just touching it to the floor hurt enough that he had to suck in a breath. “Sure this thing isn't broken?”

“Just badly bruised.”

Okay, then. Moving on. Next move—getting up right. With that feat in mind, he leaned his weight forward.

Dr. Sexy crossed her arms and frowned.

With a grunt of effort, he went for it, and surged to his feet. Or foot, as he held his screaming ankle off the ground. Ribs burning, head feeling like it had blown right off, he thrust out his arms for balance. The back of his gown flapped cool air on his bare ass.

As he waved wildly, Nicole tossed down her clipboard and leapt toward him. “Damn it.” She shoved her shoulder beneath his arm, taking his weight, which, given how little she was, had to be considerable. “What the hell is wrong with you, you stubborn—”

“Shh.” He wrapped his arm around her, gasping for breath as everything in his vision faded to a spotted gray. For a cold, clammy, sweaty moment he thought he was going to pass out, but the litany com
ing from the woman supporting him kept him conscious.

“Of all the idiotic, moronic…”

The ringing in his ears drowned out the rest of her monologue as she sat him back down, but he got the gist. He also got the pain. Holy shit, he hadn't imagined he could feel anything so much, but every muscle in his body had started a mutiny. Unable to hold back a low groan, he rolled to his side and panted for air.

“I'm going to call the nurse and get you another painkiller.”

“Don't. She's mean.”

“Baby.”

He laughed, then nearly cried at the fire in his ribs.

“I wouldn't laugh,” she advised, but there was something in her voice now, something… He managed to crane his neck and peer over his shoulder. Yep, that was his ass hanging right out for the world to see. He closed his eyes. “You getting a good view?”

She tossed his blanket over him. “I'm a doctor. I've seen it all.”

“Yeah, well, this isn't quite how I imagined you seeing me. Nicole, I'm not staying here overnight.”

“But—”

“I'm not,” he said, and looked up at her. “I…can't.”

“Why not?”

“I hate hospitals.”

“Everyone says that.”

“But I mean it.”

She stared at him for a long moment, then sighed and sat next to him. “Okay, so you have a hospital phobia—”

“I'm not staying.”

“You can't go home alone, you'll need someone to watch over you, help you.”

Much as that went against the grain, he had to agree with her, if only for the simple fact that he couldn't even see straight. “For how long?”

“At least tonight and all day tomorrow. Maybe even a second night. After your hard head improves, then you can hobble around on your own if you're careful.”

“Fine.”

“Who's going to help you?”

“I'll figure it out.”

She crossed her arms. “I know you don't have any family you'll call.”

That cleared some of the haze from his vision. “Really? How do you know that?”

“You…told me.”

Given the look of compassion in her gaze, he'd told her plenty. Terrific. “You listened to the ramblings of a drugged man?”

“You were happy enough to let your mouth run.”

What had he said? “Did I mention anything about your interesting lingerie fetish? Because I have to tell you, Nicole, I find it fascinating that you're so tough and impenetrable on the outside, and so…” A smile curved his lips. “So incredibly soft on the inside.”

“You're changing the subject.”

“I'm trying.”

She blew out a breath. “You didn't say anything embarrassing, if that's what you're worried about. You just said…you had a sister you didn't know about and that she was e-mailing you.”

“And…?”

BOOK: Tangling With Ty
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