All I Want Is You (Kimani Romance) Read Free Page A

went to the kitchen and focused on the still-paralyzed puppy.
    “I don’t know where the bleeding is coming from,” JD said, running his fingers through the puppy’s coarse fur.
    He bent toward Monica as she held the puppy, and she felt her pulse quicken. He smelled like aftershave, fresh leaves and a scent all his own—a heady mix that reminded her of sleek luxury cars, lemon martinis and exotic cities. Their faces nearly met, but he didn’t seem to notice because he was so intent on his task. Monica took the opportunity to study his face some more—his skin was smooth like chestnuts, and that sensuous bottom lip was distracting. She felt her face grow warm. She dropped her gaze to his hand and froze.
    “Wait a minute.” She grabbed his hand. “It’s you.”She turned his hand over and noticed the dried and fresh blood on his wrist and palm.
    Monica set the frightened puppy on the counter, but not before grabbing a dish towel to make a makeshift bed. “You lied to me.”
    JD shook his head. “I didn’t lie.”
    “You told me that he didn’t get you,” she said, taking off his jacket.
    “He didn’t.”
    Monica rested JD’s bloodied jacket over a kitchen stool nearby then rolled up his sleeve and saw the wound. “Really? Then what do you call this?”
    JD sighed, resigned. “I didn’t get that from the puppy.”
    Monica walked over to the sink and grabbed a fresh dish rag hanging on a hook. She put it under the running water, wrung the excess water out and began cleaning what appeared to be a large gash. She narrowed her eyes. “It looks like a knife wound.” Monica raised her gaze to his, surprised. “What happened? Were you stabbed?”
    JD rubbed his forehead then let his hand fall. “It was an accident.” He reached for the rag. “Here, let me do that.”
    Monica pushed his hand away. “You can’t accidentally do this to someone.”
    “Then call it a misunderstanding.”
    Monica searched his face and spotted a brief look of embarrassment. She began to grin. “A misunderstanding?”
    “Yes,” JD said in a tight voice.
    Her grin grew. “You don’t seem the type to get into bar brawls, so it must be a woman.”
    “The bandage must have come off in the woods,” he said, trying to make light of the situation. “I’ll rebandage it later.” He began to roll down his sleeve.
    Monica stopped him. “No, we’ll do it now.”
    JD stilled, suddenly making her aware of how close they were, how warm his skin felt and how small her hand looked as she covered his. He had large, strong hands. He could fight her—and win—if he wanted to.
    “You’re used to getting your way, aren’t you?” he said.
    Monica snatched her hand away and kept her tone neutral. “The last thing I need is for you to get an infection and get sick. Your grandmother would blame me for not looking after you.” Monica studied the cut, desperate to look at something else besides his face and clever brown eyes. “But you’re right, she—whoever she was—didn’t mean to kill you. Either that or you just got out of the way fast enough, because you don’t need stitches, thank goodness. I’ll get my first aid kit. You might as well take off your shirt. It’s ruined anyway. It’s torn and has blood on it.”
    “I think my trousers are torn, too.”
    Monica paused. His face was serious, but his tone sounded playful. Was he flirting with her? No, that couldn’t be. Men never flirted with her anymore. “I don’t care if they are,” she said in a prim voice that belied her pounding heart. At that moment, she pictured him standing naked in the kitchen as the afternoon sun skimmed over every inch of his beautiful body. “You can keep those on.”
    “If you say so,” JD said as she left the kitchen. Monica went into the bathroom and grabbed the kit from under the sink. She straightened then stared at her reflection in the mirror. “What is wrong with you?” she scolded herself. “Get your act together. Your mind is