If You Can't Stand the Heat... (Harlequin Kiss) Read Online Free PDF

Ellie couldn’t resist dropping her eyes to sneak a peek at his stomach. As she’d suspected, he had a gorgeous six-pack—but her attention was immediately diverted by a mucky, bloody sanitary pad held in place by the waistband of his jeans.
    She pursed her lips. ‘And that?’
    Jack glanced down and winced. With an enviable lack of modesty he flipped open the top two buttons of his jeans, pulled down the side of his boxer shorts and pulled off the pad. Ellie winced at the seeping, bloody, six-inch slash that bisected the artistic knife and broken heart tattoo on his hip.
    ‘Not too bad,’ Jack said, after prodding the wound with a blunt-edged finger.
    ‘What is that? A knife wound?’
    ‘Mmm. Psycho bastards.’
    ‘You sound so calm,’ Ellie said, her eyes wide.
    ‘I am calm. I’m always calm.’
    Too calm , she thought. ‘Jack, it needs stitches.’
    ‘This is minor, Ellie.’ Jack looked mutinous. ‘I’m going to give it a good scrub, slather it in the antiseptic I always carry with me and slap another pad on it.’
    ‘Who uses sanitary pads for this ?’
    ‘It’s an army thing and it serves the purpose. I’m an old hand at doctoring myself.’
    Ellie sighed when Jack turned away to rummage in his rucksack. He pulled out another sanitary pad, stripped the plastic away and slapped the clean pad onto his still bleeding wound. She saw his stubborn look and knew that he’d made up his mind. If she couldn’t get Jack to a hospital—he was six-two and built; how could she force him?—she’d have to trust him when he said that he was an old hand at patching himself up.
    ‘When my bank cards arrive I’ll go down to the pharmacy and get some proper supplies,’ Jack told her.
    Ellie sucked in a frustrated sigh. ‘Give me a list of what you need and I’ll run down and get it. I’ll be back before you’re finished showering.’ She held up her hand. ‘And, yes, you can pay me back.’
    Jack looked hesitant and Ellie resisted the impulse to smack the back of his head. ‘Jack, you need some decent medical supplies.’
    Jack glared at the floor. She saw his broad shoulders dip in defeat before hearing his reluctant agreement. Within a minute he’d located a notebook from the side pocket of his rucksack and a pen, and he wrote in a strong, clear hand exactly what he wanted. He handed her the list and Ellie knew, by his miserable eyes, that he was embarrassed that he had to ask for her help. Again.
    Men. Really...
    The mobile in her pocket jangled and Ellie pulled it out, frowning at the unfamiliar number. Answering, she heard a low, distinctively feminine voice asking for Jack. Ellie’s brows pulled together... How on earth could anyone know that Jack was with her? She had hardly completed that thought before realising that the jungle drums must be working well in the war journalists’ world. Her father was spreading the news...
    Ellie handed her mobile to Jack and couldn’t help wondering who the owner of the low, subtly sexy voice was. Lover? Colleague? Friend?
    ‘Hi, Ma.’
    Or his mother. Horribly uncomfortable with the level of relief she felt on hearing that he was talking to his mother, Ellie scuttled from the room.
    * * *
    Jack lifted the mobile to his ear on an internal groan. He just wanted to go and lie down on that bed and sleep. Was that too much to ask? Really?
    ‘I haven’t been able to reach you for a week!’ said his mother Rae in a semi-hysterical voice.
    ‘Mum, we had an agreement. You only get to worry about me after you haven’t spoken to me for three weeks.’ Jack rubbed his forehead, actively trying to be patient. He understood her worry—after all that he’d put her and his father through how could he not?—but her over-protectiveness got very old, very quickly.
    ‘Are you hurt?’ his mother demanded curtly.
    He wished he’d learnt to lie to her. ‘Let me talk to Dad, Mum.’
    ‘That means you’re hurt. Derek! Jack’s hurt!’
    Jack heard her sob and she dropped