Without looking at him, Nicky nodded and opened the door to the first bedroom on the right. It was lovely—antiques and lace—and looked completely ready for an impromptu guest.
Andrew set her bag on the floor, pointed out the attached private bath, and brusquely but politely urged her to make herself at home.
“How many bedrooms do you have?” she asked, curious about the size of the house in which she’d be sleeping.
“Five. Four in this wing, and the master suite down at the other end of the hallway, past the stairs. That’s where I’ll be if you need me during the night.”
Nicky glanced at her watch. “Night is almost over. I think it officially counts as morning now.”
He gave her a fleeting smile. “That’s why I gave you a bedroom that faces west, rather than east. I didn’t think you’d be ready for sunlight for several more hours yet.”
“Thank you.” She set her purse on a delicate Queen Anne writing desk and turned to face him, tucking a curl behind her ear in an automatic, self-conscious gesture. “I’m sure I’ll be very comfortable here.”
“Sleep as long as you like,” he told her. “I doubt that I’ll be up before noon.”
She moistened her lips and glanced at the big bed. It looked comfortable, but a bit lonely. She reminded herself that sided slept in other lonely beds, though few as lovely as this one.
Andrew moved toward the doorway. “Good night, Nicole.”
She had a sudden, inexplicable twinge of panic at the thought of being left alone in this beautiful room. “Andrew?”
He lifted an inquiring eyebrow beneath the thick bandage. “Yes?”
“Are you all right? Is ... er, is your head hurting?”
He touched the bandage. “It’s fine. A little sore.”
“Don’t get the bandage wet.”
“I won’t. Good night.” He turned again toward the doorway.
She clenched her fingers in front of her. “Andrew?”
Again he paused. “Yes?”
“Thank you again for helping me with the dog. I feel much better knowing she has a good home now.”
“I didn’t do much for the dog, but you’re welcome, anyway.” Once more, he moved toward the doorway.
Nicky took a step toward him. “I, um—”
He turned to face her, his hands on his hips, a look of question on his face. “Is something wrong? You don’t like the room?”
“The room is lovely,” she admitted, suddenly sheepish. “I just thought—well, I thought maybe you’d like to kiss me good-night.”
His nostrils flared with his sharp inhale, his only visible reaction to her bold suggestion. “I don’t think that would be a very good idea.”
“Why not?”
He grimaced and glanced at the bed. His expression told her what she’d wanted to know. “You’re old enough to know the answer to that,” he said gruffly.
At least it hadn’t been lack of interest that had made him seem so eager to rush away from her. She found that knowledge reassuring as she took another step toward him. “Just a kiss?”
“Nicole...”
She rested her hands on his chest. “I, for one, would sleep much better,” she assured him, smiling.
“You’re laughing at me again,” he murmured.