Kiss and Tell by Suzanne Brockmann Page B

before.
    Horse, Marsh thought almost desperately. He had to keep his mind on the horse. He was standing there in his underwear, after all. And his tight-fitting briefs didn’t leave much to the imagination. But how many times had he fantasized about Leila? How many times had he dreamed of her taking off his clothes? Of course, he’d never included a mare in labor and a worried little boy in those dreams.
    “Wildest dreams,” Leila mused. “Right. By that I assume you’re talking about this wonderful opportunity you have to embarrass me.”
    “Embarrass
you,
” Marsh repeated in disbelief, rinsing the soap from his arms and hands. “Get the water, will you please?”
    Leila reached over and shut off the faucet. “Yes. Embarrass
me.
”
    “But
I’m
the one standing here, definitely underdressed for this particular occasion,” Marsh said. He held up his hands so the water dripped down to his elbows. “
I’m
the one who’s embarrassed.”
    It was so typical of Marsh. He was standing there with his nearly perfectly sculpted body, looking better than a man had a right to, looking as if he could start a new career modeling men’s underwear if he ever tired of medicine. Yet, knowing Marsh, he’d probably never looked into a mirror. He probably had no idea how incredibly delicious-looking he was. All he probably knew was that it was awfully improper to hang out in a barn in his underwear while accompanied by his best friend’s sister. Leila had to laugh.
    “Perfect.” He closed his eyes briefly. “Most excellently perfect.” He looked at Leila through the hair that had fallen into his eyes. “I’m nearly naked, the mare is in obvious trouble, and young Tim has turned an everyday errand into the search for the Holy Grail. All right, go on. Laugh at me. Get it all out of your system, then.”
    He
was
embarrassed. There was a tinge of pink across his cheeks. He turned his back on her, crossing the barn to look into the mare’s stall. “After you’re done laughing,” he added tightly, “trot on out and see what’s keeping Tim.”
    He actually thought she was laughing at him. “Marshall, you colossal idiot.” Leila rolled her eyes. “I’m not laughing at you. I mean, I
am
laughing at you, but not at the way you look. At the risk of inadvertently giving you a compliment, I’ve got to tell you that there are few men who look as good in their underwear.”
    He faced her with an overdone sigh of weariness. “Just go get Tim.”
    “You don’t believe me. I can’t believe you don’t believe me—”
    “I do,” he said, clearly humoring her. “I believe you. I believe everything you say. Now, get Tim.”
    Timothy burst back into the barn, waving the plastic-wrapped packet that contained Marsh’s scrubs and gloves. “This it?” he called.
    “That’s it. Good boy. Give it to Leila.”
    Leila glared at him as she took the packet from Tim and pulled out a pale green V-necked shirt and a pair of green pants. It was maddening when Marsh patronized her like this.
    “Help me on with it, will you, please?” Marsh asked her. “My hands are clean.”
    Help him get dressed. Yes, that was a good idea. She could stand to have him look less like a Chippendale dancer and more like a medical doctor.
    Still, helping him get dressed meant she’d have to stand really close to him and breathe in his clean, masculine scent, and feel the heat that was radiating from his body.
    But she was annoyed with him, Leila reminded herself. They were arguing, as usual. As long as they were arguing, she wouldn’t have to worry about doing something foolish, like running the palms of her hands across the smooth expanse of his shoulders or…
    “Is it possible for you, at least
once
in your life, to talk to me without being pompous and condescending?” she asked almost desperately as she yanked the shirt over Marsh’s head. The backs of her knuckles ran all the way down the washboard muscles of his chest and stomach as she