2. Prescription For Love

Abby needed to wrangle her emotions back in line more than she needed sleep. Escape was her best option. At least then she wouldn’t be anywhere near Flann in a weakened state, since she couldn’t seem to resist her outrageous appeal. “I should just drive Blake home and—”

“Nonsense. That will take extra time, and you’re already tired. You could get a call at any time.” Ida crooked a finger at Flannery. “Flannery, take Abby upstairs and find a bedroom for her. You too.

Get some sleep.”

Flannery rose, her grin widening as Abby blushed furiously. “Sure thing, Mama.”

Abby surrendered. “Blake, I’ll be upstairs. If you need—”

“All’s good, Mom. See you.”

“Right.” Abby sighed and followed Flann into the hall and up the wide curving staircase. “Outnumbered and outvoted.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Flannery pushed open a big oak door in the center of the hall. “Sorry if my mother made you uncomfortable.”

“No, she didn’t,” Abby said. “To be perfectly honest, it’s nice to be so well taken care of, I’m just not used to it.”

“That’s too bad.” Flann motioned Abby inside. “You don’t need it, maybe, but you deserve to be tended to now and then.”

Abby laughed, embarrassed by the attention and a little breathless from the yearning Flann’s words stirred. Flann kept blindsiding her with these tender statements out of nowhere that struck a deep chord inside her. What had she revealed that let Flann see her secret needs so clearly, when no one else ever had? She turned to the room to hide her confusion. “This is a fabulous place. I could hide out here forever!”

The big, bright, high-ceilinged room faced a sweeping panorama of green pastures and distant mountains beneath a robin’s-egg-blue sky. Swaying branches of an oak tree framed the bay window with its wide, deep rose-patterned cushions, and the early morning sunlight fanned across wide plank floors in a golden tide. A big four-poster bed stood against one wall, the covers turned down, and a pile of white ruffled pillows beckoned. It looked so inviting she almost wept. “I didn’t realize how tired I was. I’m not so sure it’s a good idea to go to sleep.”

Flann let the door ease closed behind her. Abby’s face glowed in the slivers of sunlight showering her form. She’d pulled out the tie holding back her hair and thick waves tumbled onto her shoulders. Flann’s fingers itched to dive into them. Her throat suddenly dry, she rasped, “A little sleep is better than none, especially if it gets busy later. A couple hours, and we’ll head back.”

Abby was suddenly aware they were alone and the bed suddenly looked less inviting and a lot more threatening. Flann stood absolutely still only inches away, but she seemed to fill the space with pent-up energy and heat. Abby pulsed inside, a warning and a plea. She couldn’t look at her, didn’t dare see her own desire reflected in Flann’s dark gaze, couldn’t bear the disappointment if she didn’t.

“Yes, well, you should get some sleep too.”

Somewhere else, anywhere but here. Go. Go away before I beg you not to.

“I will, in a little while. I never really thanked you for looking after me earlier,” Flann said.

Abby took a breath, chanced a glance into her eyes. God, she had beautiful eyes. Bittersweet chocolate this morning, flecked with gold. They spoke, her eyes, of passion and pleasure. “You don’t need to thank me. You might have saved my son’s life, and you got hurt in the process. And even if that hadn’t been the case, I wanted to look after you.”

“Did you?” Flann brushed a strand of hair from Abby’s throat. Her fingers lingered.

“Yes.”

“You think I need looking after, do you?”

“Oh no, not you. I forgot, you don’t need anything except a little fun and companionship.” Abby meant to say it lightly, but it came out more seriously than she intended. “I’m sorry, that was inappropriate and—”

“You’re right, most of the time. You’re not right now, though.” Flann clasped her upper arms gently and drew her forward. “Right now I need something else. Something very, very specific.” “Flann,” Abby protested.

“You, Abby. Right now I want you so much I can’t think.” Flann slid her palms from Abby’s shoulders and down onto her forearms, tugging her until they were a whisper apart. “You looked really good sitting at the table this morning. Like you belonged there. You fit this place, Abby, this world.”

“Flann, I don’t—”

“Don’t think.” Flann leaned close. “Just take, Abby. Take.”

Impossibly, Abby couldn’t think. Somewhere a voice, her voice, cried Yes, for once, yes, take.

Flann kissed her, the first silky caress of her mouth barely more than a whisper, gently at first, building with each teasing pass to possessive and sure.