Read an Excerpt from The Catnapped Lover:

“Ow.”

Blinking, he struggled to regain his equilibrium; the weight of a hand landed on his back. Beside him, a cool feminine alto murmured, “Do you always exit a hammock on your head, or is falling on your face a common form of greeting where you come from?”

The woman’s sunny, spiced aroma mixed with the perfume of the flowers. He turned his aching head and finally sat facing her. Small feet encased in dusty leather flats came into view. Delicate ankles and graceful calves blurred in his vision. For a moment, the pain in his head dulled, and Adam rose to his knees.

“Ordinarily, I stand when I meet a beautiful woman for the first time. I’m not usually attacked and pushed to the floor until the second date.”

The woman gave a ladylike snort then spun on her heels. “Wait there. I’ll get something for your head.”

He watched, dumbstruck by the shift of her hips and the play of tight navy-blue over her rounded bottom. Smooth, Talcott, real smooth. You meet an attractive woman and make sexual innuendoes without even discovering her name. He must have taken idiot pills for breakfast. No wonder he had accepted Jack’s stupid challenge.

By the time she returned with water and a towel, he’d regained his feet.

“Come over here and sit while I take a look at that lump growing at your hairline.” She gestured to one of the two fraying rattan chairs that flanked a low table at the opposite end of the porch.

He took one step forward and heard a clink followed by a crunch. He looked down to see his foot surrounded by broken glass and spilled milk. The milk spread rapidly across the porch. He raised his eyes to meet the woman’s gaze and got his first good look at her.

Words jammed in his throat. The legs he’d seen earlier should have belonged to a tall, blonde amazon. They didn’t. She was a sprite. Probably about five foot…and comfortably endowed. A cloud of red-brown hair surrounded high cheekbones adorned with clear, honey-colored skin. Her nose was a bit too broad to be elegant. Long, thick lashes framed warm, maple sugar eyes that stared at him with mild contempt.

His body stirred. Dizziness buzzed in his ears. He struggled to hear the words coming from those rose-tinted lips.

“Walk much or just practice a lot?”

Adam grunted. He’d rather be knocked sideways with a two-by-four than let her know how off balance she made him. If he’d learned nothing else from his father, it was never give away your feelings. Feelings had no place in business, and right now Adam’s business was getting a job. He stepped boldly forward and managed two strides before he slipped and landed solidly on his backside. The impact knocked the breath from him. With the sudden loss of oxygen, a burning sensation flooded his body. He opened his mouth, gasping for air. A red mist filled his vision.

As if from a distance, her voice said, “Oh, you poor man. I’m so sorry I teased you. I had no idea you were disabled. Here, let me help you. Have you had balance problems all your life?”

Adam sucked in huge gulps of air. The red mist resolved itself into a mass of curls. The burning subsided into an ache that hounded every bone and muscle. Small, warm fingers wrapped around one of his hands, and a firm arm lifted his head from the floor.

“I’m okay,” he managed to get out between breaths.

“Hold on to me while you get up.”

There was an invitation he couldn’t refuse. Adam gripped her arm with his free hand and levered himself upward. Once upright, he leaned heavily against her for a moment, taking full advantage of her innocent generosity. She was soft, too soft to resist.

“Can you walk if I help you balance?”

“I think so.” He let her support him all the way to the chairs. She tried to pull her hand away as he sat, but he held on. “Thank you.”

She blushed. “You’re welcome.”

He let go of her hand and gazed into her now wary eyes. Well, what did he expect when he’d all but pawed her for the past five minutes? He should have been ashamed of himself. He was ashamed of himself. He’d taken advantage of her generous offer to help. Nonetheless, he couldn’t regret touching her and very much hoped to have the chance to do it again, with her permission, of course.

Who knew if that would happen? She must know Shea Doyle. Why else would the russet-haired beauty be here? But how did she know Shea? He narrowed his gaze. Pretty as she was, she might be a threat to him getting that job Shea had offered. He needed that job. So the only thing to do was to charm this woman into trusting him.

“I’m Adam Talcott.” He held out his hand.

* * *

Dierdre found herself caught in a deep blue stare that soothed and frightened her at the same time. For some unfathomable, slightly terrifying reason, she wanted to strip naked and swim in that clear shining light.

“Sit, Mr…?”

“Talcott,” he said slowly. “Adam Talcott.”

“Hold still, Mr. Talcott, so I can look at your head.”

He did as she asked.

“I’m Dierdre Clancy. My aunt owns Shea D’s Rest.” Dierdre dipped a corner of a towel into the water. Gingerly, she threaded her fingers through his hair until she located a slight swelling beneath the locks that fell over his forehead.

He flinched when her fingers brushed the tender spot.

“I’m sorry.” She applied the cool cloth.

“It’s okay.”

“I don’t think it’s bleeding.”

“Really?” Adam put his hand up to his head.

At the same moment, Dierdre removed the towel and leaned past him, stretching to retrieve the frozen peas that sat just beyond the bowl of water. The movement caused her breast to brush against his fingers, and pleasure flooded her chest. Startled, she jumped backward, pulling the bowl of icy water over the edge of the table and into Adam’s lap.

He leaped from the chair, turning in a circle and shaking water in every direction.

She swiped at the few drops that came her way then let out a gasp, heat creeping into her face. “Oh, my Lord, look at you.”

“I don’t think I’m all that impressive right at the moment.” He bent his head, peering at his soaked jeans.

“No, your back.”

“Despite my earlier performance, I’m not a contortionist.”

“I’m sorry. I know I’m not making myself clear, but your shirt is stained with red. You must have fallen on the plate.”

“No kidding.”

His head swung in the direction of the shattered plate and glass.

Tentatively, she probed his back. Her fingers tingled again. How could she react so strongly to a complete stranger? “Does that hurt?”

“Not really.”

Beneath her fingers and the damaged shirt, his back was firm and resilient. Would his skin be as smooth and tanned as his face, or pale from lack of sun in the winter? Where was he from that his face should be so dark at this time of year? Or perhaps the tan came out of a can. And why should she care? What was there about this man she’d known for less than five minutes that called to her? Usually she only felt strong empathy for the indigents she worked with. Perhaps that was it. He was poor and, in a sense, helpless. She had pretty good instincts about people, although she’d been terribly wrong once.

“Can you take your shirt off? Here, let me help.” She stepped around in front of him and unbuttoned his cuffs while he unfastened the placket of the shirt. Then she eased the open shirt past his elbows.

His skin was smooth and tanned. He must travel a lot to get that much color. The revealed flesh was firm and taut. The aroma of warm male surrounded her. She hadn’t been this near a man since…since she’d made a fool of herself. Briskly, she stripped the shirt off of his arms and dropped it on the floor.

She marched around behind him and stared at the unmarred expanse of his back. She touched the marble-smooth surface. The heat from him zinged up her arm again, but this time she was ready. It had to be some sort of aberration. She couldn’t be attracted to him. The muscles beneath her hand shifted. Adam sat, turning his head and shoulders enough to catch her gaze.

An unwelcome jolt from those blue eyes prickled her skin. “Your back is fine, just fine.” She’d just lost her job and her home. The last thing she needed was lust for a man she didn’t know, a man who could well be just like Paul. She reached for the discarded shirt.

Adam grabbed for the shirt at the same time.

Dierdre yanked herself backward, avoiding the dangerous lure of his touch.

Adam held up the shirt so they both could see the large, red splotches. Adam sniffed. “Strawberry jam.”

She smothered a nervous chuckle. “Aunt Shea is very vain about her homemade preserves. I wonder how she’d feel about you wearing them instead of eating them?”

“You know your aunt best, but somehow I don’t think she’d mind, given the circumstances.”

Dierdre lifted her head and risked meeting his gaze. The small smile she’d seen just before she’d wakened him reappeared as a face-splitting grin. She bit back an answering smile; she refused to encourage a flirtation, but there it was again, that sense of falling—or diving—straight into his bluer-than-blue eyes.

Careful. You can’t afford to fall for another charmer.

“Um, yes.” She forced her attention to the mess near the hammock. “Speaking of the circumstances, we’d better get them cleaned up before…”

The squeal of brakes and the slam of a vehicle door. What now? She turned to see her aunt climbing down from her truck. Between the mess on the porch and the mess her life was in, Dierdre wasn’t ready to face Aunt Shea.

“Dierdre! Dierdre Clancy, have you seen my new hired man?” Aunt Shea shouted as she approached.

Dierdre grabbed the shirt from Adam’s hands. “I’ll go soak this or that stain will never come out. You stay here and soak your head with those peas.” Quicker than heat lightning, she spun and disappeared into the house.

Aunt Shea would understand the need to clean up the mess and soak the shirt. Besides, Dierdre didn’t want to discuss the hazards of taking in strange men in front of Adam Talcott. But after a calm and private discussion, Shea would see reason, Dierdre could offer Talcott a ride into town, and he’d be out of both their lives before he could do any real damage.