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“Now.”
“Now what?”
She laughed, the low, sexy sound drifting over him. “Now take off the rest.” She wiggled her fingers, urging him on when he hesitated.
He should go. Just nudge her into that big shower stall, close the door, and go.
To Alaska. It might be far enough away.
He stopped, his fly open, pants hanging low on his hips. It wasn’t too late to be sensible. He would regret not making the most of this moment, but he absolutely, should not go through with this. “Heather.”
“You need help? Happens to all of us. Back up.” She dropped to her knees, head bent as she unlaced his boots and tugged them off his feet.
When she lifted her face, smiling up at him, he knew the fight was over. Had been since she’d kissed him in the car.
Her long fingers gripped his pants, easing them down his legs and tossing them aside. Her touch was tender as she stroked over his body, exploring him. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d felt anything so gentle or nurturing. Her breath caught and he closed his eyes, not wanting to see her revulsion when she saw the puckered scar and misshapen muscles of his thigh.
Now she knew what the Army had decided years ago. He was defective, unstable. Unreliable. The FBI didn’t hold it against him because they could keep him on a desk and his investigative skills were top notch. Except he wasn’t using those skills at the moment. He was taking advantage of a beautiful woman, letting a rush of blood chemistry trump logic.
“Look at me.”
He wanted to comply, but he knew his limitations. All of them. He would lose it if he looked down and saw anything other than desire in her brown eyes.
“No.” He couldn’t take the chance. He kept his gaze on the ceiling. A man who wasn’t broken would lift her into his arms, step into that steaming shower and worship her until they both trembled with spent desire.
He couldn’t be that man. When he trembled, it was with weakness. His leg wouldn’t handle the strain and he didn’t want to disappoint her. “I can’t,” he confessed on a ragged whisper.
She scattered tiny kisses all over his good leg, teasing him but not giving him what his body longed for. She couldn’t even touch his bad leg. He understood. It was a disgusting sight. Had already driven one woman to flee.
“Relax,” she murmured against his chest as she rose and stepped into him. “I’ve got you,” she continued, drawing him into the clouds of steam.
“I can’t.” Voicing the denial made his weakness too real. He could do anything she wanted in a bed. But she seemed determined to have him in the one place he couldn’t safely perform.
“For a shower.” She crossed her heart. “That’s all.”
“Right.” He didn’t want to spell it out for her.
“I don’t want to be alone,” she confessed abruptly. “I know we’re safe here, but…”
“I’d be a less distracted bodyguard if I was in the other room.”
“That’s debatable. You’ve been acting like I’m irresistible.”
“You are.”
“Then get in here. I’ll wash your back,” she lifted his palm to her lips and gave it a kiss, “if you’ll wash mine.”
He stepped into the steamy shower with her, unable to resist the idea of having her hands on him.
Under the hot spray, she surprised him, apparently satisfied with nothing more than a few hot kisses during their soapy exchange.
As he washed the sleek muscles of her back, he massaged a few of the knots in her shoulders and she arched into his touch like a cat. She returned the favor, adding in soft kisses as she rinsed away the soap.
His body responded swiftly and urgently. The case was the last thing on his mind when he shut off the water and wrapped her in the luxurious hotel bath sheet.
“Heather, I’d like t—”
She pressed a finger to his lips. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence if it involves the words, case, investigation, or pictures.”
