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THE HOT BLOODED-HUSBAND
by Alice Gaines
Copyright © Alice Gaines, 2008
All Rights Reserved, RED SAGE PUBLISHING, INC.
EXCERPT FROM THE HOT-BLOODED HUSBAND
How in hell did you bandage a lip? Dan stared at his face in the bathroom mirror. The cut still oozed blood. He’d found some gauze but no way to hold it in the right place. Both a bandage and tape would have to go inside him mouth, and that would never work.
“Oh, Dan.” Paz stood on the doorway, giving him her I’m-so-disappointed-in-you look.
“Here to gloat?” he asked.
“I came to see how you are.”
“You could have done that in the kitchen when I really needed some help,” he said. “You were more worried about your carpet.”
“Stop it right there, okay?”
He huffed and turned back to the mirror. Paz used guilt on him when it would do her some good. He might as well return the favor. He’d come home to his woman—wounded from battle—and she’d made him go around to the back of the building. Actually, the front, but why split hairs? She’d sat with her girlfriend—the wife of the guy who’d cut his lip—instead of taking care of her man.
“What are you doing?” she said.
“Trying to figure out how to bandage the wound. Not that you care.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she said. “Sit down and let me do it.”
He put the toilet cover down and sat, staring up at her. Giving her what she called the big eyes. She always fell for them. She glanced at him and then shifted her gaze to the medicine cabinet. After opening the mirrored door, she searched inside for a moment and finally pulled out a tube of something.
“Salve,” she said. “Antiseptic.”
“Let me see.”
She removed the top and handed it to him. He sniffed it. “Whew. That won’t taste good.”
She took the stuff back from him. “Then, don’t suck on it.”
“You have a bad attitude, you know it?”
“You’re a fine one to talk.” She took his chin in one of her small hands and pulled his face up to study it. “It doesn’t look too bad.”
She squeezed some salve into her finger and dabbed some onto his lip.
“That stings,” he said.
“If you’re so afraid of pain, you shouldn’t start fights.”
“I didn’t start it. He did.”
“Well, just finish it.”
She started to step away, but he put his hands around her waist and held her in place. “I know what I can finish.”
“Oh, no, you don’t.”
She didn’t try to pull away. At least, not hard enough that he had to worry about her leaving. She smelled good, as she always did. Soap and talcum powder and the floral scent that was her own. If he bottled it and sold it, he could make a fortune, but then, all men would get a taste of his wife’s perfume, and she belonged to him alone.
Her nearness had its usual effect on him, and he stiffened in his pants. She had the perfect medicine for that, too. Right between her thighs. Only inches away.
“My stud master needs your love muffin,” he said.
She rolled her eyes. “You should have thought of that before you took a swing at Brad.”
He pulled her down onto his knee. “You’re not still angry, are you, mi corazón?”
“Anger isn’t the point.” She didn’t try to get away but left her sweet butt against his thigh. “You make us all miserable with your idiotic fights.”
“I’m miserable now,” he murmured against her neck. “Make me un-miserable.”
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