Pulling on her robe, she stumbled out into the kitchen to find Brad shirtless, clothed only in a pair of slacks, attempting to make coffee. He had obviously overcome his embarrassment, and suddenly she wished he hadn’t, as the desire to touch the smooth hard muscles of his back assailed her. ‘I didn’t have a firm enough grip and the can slipped. Sorry I woke you,’ he apologised as he picked up the fallen container and placed it between his arm and body while again attempting to prise off the lid. Because he was right-handed and because the injured wrist was the right one, he was operating under a handicap. ‘I’ll finish that,’ Sara insisted tightly, belting her robe and taking the coffee from him. Then, noticing his naked, \ swollen wrist, she plopped the can on the counter and glared up at him. ‘Where’s your bandage?’ ‘I took it off to shower and couldn’t get it wrapped right,’ he replied, a touch of sheepishness in his expression.
