Their Seductress [The Hot Millionaires #1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (23 page)

“Coping is what I do best,” he said, winking at Paige. He handed Isaac the keys to his precious car. “It’s still in one piece in the parking lot,” he said. “Nice wheels, by the way. It motors well at ninety.”

Isaac glowered at him. “Tell me you didn’t.”

“I’ll get a cab home,” he said, grinning, “and you can bring our girl back in style tomorrow.”

The men grasped hands firmly at shoulder level, made significant eye contact, and Nick left the room, quietly closing the door behind him.

When Paige opened her eyes, early morning light filtering through the blinds heightened the dull throb in her temple. She didn’t recognize her surroundings and felt panic welling up. Something bad had happened. Was she in danger?

Realization slowly dawned. Hospital. Lana. A death struggle. Isaac and Nick riding to the rescue. Paige hyperventilated, probably sending her vital signs off the chart, as scenes from the nightmare she’d been lucky to survive flashed behind her eyes.

She breathed deeply, glanced to the side of the bed, and her panic immediately subsided when her gaze fell upon Isaac. Her brooding guardian angel was sprawled in an armchair, his head tilted to one side, sound asleep. His film-star features were even more compelling in repose, and the temptation to reach forward and run her finger down the cleft in his chin was compelling. She didn’t want to wake him, so she resisted. For the same reason, she didn’t push the thick hair that had fallen across his brow back into place. Instead she simply gazed at him, which was absolutely no hardship whatsoever.

So much like Doug, she thought dreamingly, a mirror image. But she knew now that the similarities only went skin-deep. Doug had been weak, willing to use others to keep his own star in the ascendency and stay one step ahead of the game. Isaac was more intelligent, driven by ambition but had standards he wasn’t prepared to compromise to get where he wanted to be.

Paige expelled a heavy sigh, feeling disloyal at the nature of her thoughts. She distracted herself by allowing her eyes to drift lower. With Isaac still asleep she could indulge in a healthy dollop of window-shopping. It didn’t mean anything. Hell, she was only human! She wasn’t breaking her self-imposed rules about getting involved. She was just a woman, appreciating a good-looking man’s, er…finer points, nothing more. If Nick was here she’d ogle him, too. She loved them equally, so she wasn’t breaking her rule about getting emotionally involved, was she? Not if she felt the same way about them both.

Isaac’s long legs were splayed, and her gaze inevitably fell upon his crotch. She dampened her lips with her tongue, all too aware of the treasures that rested behind that flimsy zipper. Paige let out a soft groan, disgusted with herself. Lana had killed Ellie and then tried to kill her, poor Mike’s secret would be splashed across the headlines as the tabloid press did a hatchet job on his family, and all she seemed to be able to think about was sex. She was a truly terrible person.

“Don’t even think about it.”

Isaac had opened one eye, and his gravelly voice snapped her out of her reverie.

“About what?”

He merely flashed an annoyingly sapient look, as well he might, having caught her gaping at his bulge.

“Good morning,” he said, stretching his arms above his head and yawning. “How do you feel?”

“Completely recovered.” She pushed the covers back. “Let’s go home.”

“Hey, where’s the fire? You need to be checked out by the doctor first.”

“Bah!” She flapped a hand. “I can only see one of you, fortunately,” she added with a naughty grin, “I know my name. I can remember what happened. What’s to check?” She stood up too quickly, and her legs almost buckled beneath her. Isaac grabbed her arm to support her and shot her a look. “I need the bathroom,” she said with as much dignity as she could muster given that she was wearing one of those awful hospital gowns, open all the way down the back.

“Nice duds,” he said, his eyes dancing with amusement.

“It’s not as if you haven’t seen it all before.”

“Not in this setting. There’s something about hospitals and those sexy scrubs the nurses wear—”

“You’re insatiable.” Paige tossed her head and regretted it when pain shot through her forehead.

“I didn’t spend the night staring at
your
bits.”

She tilted her chin, more cautiously this time. “I was
not
staring at your bits.”

Isaac chuckled as he opened the bathroom door for her. “I noticed you
not
staring.”

“Hey, where did this all come from?” she asked, smiling when she saw her own toiletries neatly arranged on the shelf.

“Nick sent a few things over.”

“He’s a thoughtful sweetie.” She threw a flirtatious glance over her shoulder. “Unlike some I could mention.”

“Don’t try playing us off against each other, babe. It won’t work.”

“Are you going to stand there and watch me pee?” He was leaning a broad shoulder against the bathroom door, arms folded across his chest, an amused expression playing about his gorgeous mouth. “Or did you have something more interesting in mind?”

“Behave yourself!” He stepped out and closed the door, leaving her to do what needed to be done.

“So much for my compelling charm,” she muttered.

Paige glanced in the mirror and winced. No wonder he’d found it so easy to resist her. Her hair was streaked with dried blood and stood on end like a haystack. The dressing on the side of her forehead was larger than she’d realized, and a multicolored bruise was already spreading from beneath it. She seemed to have scratches all over and was a general mess.

“Don’t use the shower,” Isaac shouted from outside the door. “Not until the doctor says it’s okay to get water over that dressing.”

Hell, how did he know that was what she was about to do?

“But my hair?” she wailed.

“You look gorgeous,” he said, opening the door and poking his head round it.

He was quite capable of keeping her in this hospital indefinitely unless she did as he asked, infuriating man! She was old enough to discharge herself, but that wouldn’t stop him. Sullenly she grabbed a washcloth, tidied up her face as best she could, and smothered it with expensive moisture cream, groaning with pleasure as it worked its magic and the stinging eased. Then she grabbed a hairbrush and attempted to at least brush the dried blood from her crowning glory.

Before she’d even started, the room appeared to shrink as Isaac stepped up behind her. He took the brush from her hand, pushed her hair aside, and kissed the nape of her neck, his soft lips sending tingles all the way down her spine.

“Let me do that for you,” he said softly.

And he did, so gently that she almost didn’t feel his touch. When he reached the hair immediately above her cut, he held the roots in one hand so that the brushstrokes didn’t pull on the stitches. She leaned back against the solidity of his body and closed her eyes. Who would have thought that having a man brush her hair could be so sensual?

“Are you enjoying this?” she asked, aware of the bulge pushing into her naked back.

“Not at all,” he said, deadpan.

“Liar!”

“There you go,” he said, putting the brush down and gently patting her rear. “Good as new.”

They returned to her room to find a nurse there. She busied herself checking Paige’s vital signs, nodding with satisfaction. Paige was peeved to notice that she appeared more interested in Isaac than in her. Who the hell was the patient here? They had a discussion about her health that totally excluded Paige. It was as though she wasn’t even in the bloody room.

Thoroughly out of sorts with him again, she moodily picked at the light breakfast that was brought in for her. Isaac, she noticed, got silver service. Coddled eggs, bacon, coffee, the works.

“What is it?” he asked, shooting her a sideways glance.

“Nothing.”

What could she possibly say? He’d saved her life, looked totally bereft when she regained consciousness yesterday, clearly blaming himself for almost not arriving in time, and hadn’t left her side since. Isaac Drake showing his vulnerable side was a rare experience, and she wasn’t too sure what she ought to read into it. She’d placed herself in danger. The fault was all hers, yet he seemed to hold himself responsible.

Fortunately the doctor arrived just after that and discharged Paige. She wasn’t surprised to find fresh clothes waiting in the closet, also courtesy of Nick. Isaac thanked everyone on her behalf, and she was soon sitting in the passenger seat of his car, finally on her way home.

“Thanks,” she said, staring straight ahead and not looking at him.

He quirked a brow. “For what?”

“Oh, nothing much. For saving my life. For staying all night with me. For caring.”

He removed a hand from the wheel and placed in on her thigh. “You’re entirely welcome,” he said softly.

The front door opened as they pulled into the driveway of the St. Pete house. Nick stood there, dirty-blond hair flopping across his face, as always wearing just a pair of shorts. He stepped forward and opened Paige’s door.

“Welcome home, babe.” He kissed her cheek. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Like hell she is,” Isaac muttered from behind her.

“Oh dear,” Nick said, linking Paige’s arm though his and helping her into the house. “He’s not in bossy mode again, is he?”

“He’s been impossible.”

“Babe, I’ve hardly got started,” he told her with a warning grin.

“That’s what I’m worried about.”

They went into the den, and Paige sat on the couch, trying not to make it too obvious how badly she needed to get off her feet.

“Want some breakfast?” Nick asked.

“No thanks, I had something at the hospital.”

“Tea then?”

“God no!” Paige affected horror. “You Yanks don’t have a clue how to make a proper cup of tea.”

“All right then, Mrs. Britain,” Isaac said. “You can teach us.”

“Right,” she said, rising to the challenge. “We need tea, obviously.”

“Got it.” Nick leapt into the kitchen and waved a packet of tea bags in the air.

“Yuk, that’s not tea. Those things taste like soggy socks.”

Isaac grinned. “If you say so.”

“What we need, Nick, is a proper tea pot
and
a tea strainer. A tea pot made of china, not stainless steel. Then we need tea leaves.”

“What type?”

“How long have you got?” She smiled, warming to her theme. “Earl Grey, Darjeeling, English breakfast tea,” she said, closing her eyes in anticipation. “If you can find it.”

“Consider it done.”

“What I’d really like is a bath,” Paige said. “Mr. Control Freak here says I can’t shower, but who says I can’t bath?”

“No one.” Nick stood up. “I’ll run it for you.”

“And join me?” she asked hopefully.

“Absolutely not!” they said together.

Paige pulled a face. “You two aren’t much fun anymore.”

That wasn’t absolutely true. They cared. As they washed her all over, Paige felt a warm glow spreading through her that had absolutely nothing to do with arousal. She felt valued, cherished, and safe. She couldn’t shake images of Lana’s manic determination to drown her, and having these two hunky specimens looking out for her helped to keep her grounded. Wrapped in a fluffy bath towel that completely swamped her, Paige felt drowsy again.

“Weir’s due in half an hour,” Isaac told her. “Couldn’t put him off any longer. Talk to him, and then you can rest for the remainder of the day.”

The next few days passed in a blur of activity for Nick and Isaac. They wouldn’t let Paige do anything, and she spent most of her time lounging on the couch in the den. Nick had the funeral arrangements well in hand and required little input from her. Isaac worked long hours at the agency, holding things together, reassuring staff and clients alike. He came home at the end of each day looking drained and tired. Paige’s strength was gradually returning, but she still tired easily, which the doctor told her to expect. The bang on the head and nearly drowning did that to a person, apparently.

Nick didn’t leave her alone during the daytime, and Isaac took over at night. It was as though they’d worked out a timetable to look after her without bothering to consult her about it. Like she needed looking after, she silently fumed. She was an adult and could look after herself, thank you very much.

Worse, neither of them would make love to her. They refused to even consider it when she was in such a weak state.

“Our games aren’t gentle,” Isaac reminded her. “You’re not up to it yet.”

“We don’t have to get that physical.”

He merely quirked a brow in that irritatingly superior way of his, but Paige refused to acknowledge that he was probably right. Once they got in the mood, passion would almost certainly win out over common sense.

Alone in her huge bed on her first night home, it took her an age to get to sleep. No sooner had she done so than she woke with a start, sweating, unable to breathe. She was beneath that water again, being held down, struggling to get free, trying to scream that she wasn’t ready to die. She didn’t think that any sound had come out, but her door crashed open, and Isaac and Nick both stood there. She blinked at them without really seeing them, disorientated, still in her own version of hell. She was vaguely aware of Isaac nodding at Nick.