Moonlight Over Manhattan(56)
He grunted a protest as she tried to ease his coat away from his shoulders. It was only when he resisted that she realized how strong he was. And how heavy. And almost all that weight was muscle.
This wasn’t going to be easy.
“You’re a doctor.” She tugged and pulled until she removed the coat. It was no easy feat. He was bigger than her and much stronger. “You should know it’s not good to wrap up when you have a fever. We have to cool you down.”
“Go away.” His teeth were chattering. “Whatever I’ve got, you don’t want it.”
She ignored him. “Help me take your sweater off. Just move a fraction, please, Ethan.” He obviously wasn’t the type who was good at following orders because he didn’t move. She slid her hands up his arms, feeling rock solid muscles. He was built like a weight lifter. She tugged at his sweater, dragging it up the column of his back and trying to ease it over his shoulder.
He grunted a protest. “When I imagined you undressing me, it didn’t go quite like this.”
He’d imagined her undressing him? Her heart gave a little flutter and then she remembered that he had a fever. He probably didn’t know what he was saying.
Great. It took delirium for a sexy guy to pay her a compliment.
“Keep the jokes until later. Is there someone you want me to call? Who is your doctor?”
“I’m the doctor—” He broke off in a dry, hacking cough. “Get out, or you’ll catch it.”
“I never get sick.” She tugged and pulled, but he was heavy and gave her no help. By the time she’d removed his sweater she was out of breath. “Although of course now I’ve tempted fate and I’ll probably have bubonic plague by Monday, but I’ll worry about that later. Hopefully by then you’ll be better and in a position to save my life. Right now I need to get your jeans off.”
“Is that an indecent suggestion?” He coughed again and she winced.
“Stop talking. You sound as if you’re going to cough up your lung. Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well?”
“I thought I’d be fine after a lie-down.”
“For a doctor, you’re pretty stupid.”
His breathing was raspy. “I think I might have caught something.”
“No kidding. You trained for all those years to tell me that?”
“You really should get out of here.” He spoke as if every word was an effort.
“No, because if you die in the night I don’t want that on my conscience. I already have enough scars and baggage to deal with. Carrying any more will give me spinal problems.”
“How come you suddenly have so much to say for yourself? What happened to shy Harriet?”
“You’re weak and can’t fight back.”
“You’re right about that.” His eyes closed. “I don’t feel too good.”
“Because you’re burning up like a rocket launcher. Any minute now you’re going to be propelled into space. Still, I guess the advantage of that is that the rest of us wouldn’t catch it and to be honest it doesn’t look like a whole lot of fun. We need to get the rest of these layers off you. If I undress you are you going to take it the wrong way like you did when I cooked dinner?” She reached for the hem of his T-shirt but he stopped her.
“I was an asshole.”
“I’m not arguing with that. The only reason I didn’t walk out and leave you to deal with Madi on your own is because I care too much about her.”
“C-cold.” His teeth were chattering and his body shuddering.
“You’re not cold. I could barbecue ribs on your head. You need to strip. And I need to get you liquids.”
“Liquids. Yes.” He hacked again and slowly hauled himself to a sitting position, doubling over as she watched helplessly. She could sense his frustration, his exasperation with the weakness of his own body.
And she felt a twinge of unease.
She’d never seen anyone get so sick, so fast.
What if it wasn’t the flu? What if it was something more serious? She hoped the anxiety knotting inside her didn’t show on her face. How did he handle serious cases in the ER? She’d be standing there gnawing her nails down to the skin wondering what she was missing.
“Can you stand up? Could you make it to the shower? We need to cool you down.”
Without answering, he lay back down and covered himself with the soft throw that lay across the bed.
Harriet pulled it off again. “I’ll take that as a no, but either way I still need to get your jeans off.”
“I’m not in the mood.”
She took comfort from the fact he still had a sense of humor. If he were dying of something serious, he wouldn’t be laughing, would he?
She glanced at the snug fit of his jeans and felt her color rise. “Can you at least undo them?”
He moved his hands slowly and then let them fall away to his sides. “No.”
Rolling her eyes, Harriet took over.
It took her two attempts to unbutton his jeans, her fingers fumbling and inept as she tried to subdue her mind’s sudden determination to take her imagination to places she definitely didn’t want to go.
Thankfully he seemed pretty out of it so he wasn’t likely to remember her struggles to undress him.