UNDERCOVER TWIN by Lena Diaz Page A

might fit.
    She grabbed the blanket from the foot of the bed and tossed it over his lap. Then she began tugging at the fastenings on his hospital gown, apparently intent on helping him change clothes. He wondered just how far she’d go with that, and he couldn’t seem to dredge up any desire to refuse her help.
    She pulled the gown off and pitched it on the countertop. “Well? When did you get shot?”
    He had a feeling if he told her he’d gotten shot just as they’d reached the woods after running from the house, that she’d never let him hear the end of it. He decided a vague reply was the safer route. “I’m not really sure. It didn’t even hurt.”
    Actually, it had hurt like hell, but he wasn’t going to admit it.
    She rolled her eyes and helped him slide his arms into the clean shirt. “ I’m sure that it did. I don’t buy for one second that you don’t know when you were hit.” She stepped back, apparently deciding he could button his own shirt, and raked her hands through her hair.
    “I’m tougher than I look,” she said. “I don’t want you giving up your Kevlar vest for me and running into a firefight. And if I’d known you were injured, I could have helped, somehow. I could have dressed the wound to make sure you didn’t lose too much blood, for one thing. I have enough on my conscience without adding you to the list.”
    “Like what?” He didn’t bother with the top two buttons on his shirt. He grabbed the fresh jeans and lifted a leg to put them on.
    Heather’s eyes widened and she whirled around. “What do you mean, like what?” she asked.
    Nick smiled at her sudden nervousness and tossed the blanket back on the bed to make it easier to pull on his pants. “You said you had enough on your conscience. Like what, for instance?”
    He pulled the clean jeans on, wincing when they tugged on his stitches. The fact that he was partly turned on from ogling Heather’s breasts and staring at her curvy backside didn’t help with the snug fit. He was extra slow and careful with the zipper, since he was forced to go commando.
    She threw her hands in the air. “What do I have on my conscience? Really? Everything! Mark being hurt. You being hurt. And Lily, God knows it’s my fault she’s in this mess.”
    Nick stilled. “What do you mean it’s your fault?”
    She peeked over her shoulder, as if to make sure nothing was exposed that shouldn’t be before turning around to face him.
    Good grief, the woman was adorable. She acted as if she’d never seen him naked before. Then again, they’d only slept together once, the night before the raid on the club. And speaking for himself, one time with the little firecracker wasn’t enough, not even close. It would have to be, of course, which meant he’d probably spend the rest of his life wanting her and wondering what could have been.
    That thought had his mood taking a dive south.
    He grabbed his wallet from the tray and shoved it into his pants pocket. “How is it your fault that Lily’s in this mess?” he repeated.
    A knock sounded on the door.
    “Come in,” Nick called out. He didn’t miss the look of relief that crossed Heather’s face. He made a mental note to ask her that question again later, when they were alone.
    Chuck and Tanner stepped inside.
    “About ready?” Tanner asked.
    “Just about.” Nick sat back on the bed and grabbed the pair of shoes. “How’s Mark doing?”
    “He’s still in surgery,” Chuck said. “But the doctor said his prognosis is good. We’ll keep agents guarding his room until he’s stable enough to be transferred to a Miami hospital.”
    Heather stepped forward and pushed Nick’s hands away. She grabbed one of his shoes and gently slid it onto his foot. He stared at her in surprise. It had been hurting like crazy trying to bend down to put his shoes on, so he appreciated her help. But he couldn’t fathom why she was being so nice and concerned after he’d left her in jail all weekend. He owed