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"You could have at least let me adjust my towel," she said.
He glanced down at her, and with her arm occupied in holding on, there was nothing she could do but endure the heated perusal.
"Why would I want to do that?" he grinned.
Her eyes narrowed.
"He's always been this way, Lauren," Marcus commented. "God knows I've tried to beat it out of him. "
Josh snorted. "Like a little prissy fairy like you could beat up anyone. "
"If you're going to act like a homophobic Neanderthal," Marcus remarked, moving ahead to open the side door of Lisette's house, "I'm not going to play with you anymore. Do you need some help?"
Josh's grip on Lauren tightened and Marcus clucked. "You see," he informed Lauren. "He doesn't share. "
Josh's face suffused with color. He looked as if he might defend his actions with some excuse, but in the end he said nothing. He shouldered by Marcus, jabbing him in the chest with his elbow.
"Ow," his friend said mildly, and shut the door after them.
Outside, where her options were limited, being half naked had been embarrassing but not fatal, just part of the whole ludicrous situation. Carried up the stairs and into Lisette's living room, furnished with every comfort of the civilized world, Lauren felt a keen urge to have the floor open and suck her in. It was so much easier when she was in control, with all the right trappings in place. Even though she knew they were just trappings, and the real control came from within.
"Put me down, we're in the house," she said, struggling a bit to underscore the order.
"I don't think it's going to do you much good to stand on your feet," Josh observed. "Where do you want me to put you down?"
"Over there," she snapped, pointing at a comfortable chair. Her robe lay on the ottoman, next to the cursed sliding glass door that had started the whole incident.
Josh nodded. "Marcus, go see if Lisette has an ice pack and some bandages. "
"I don't need - " Lauren closed her eyes and fought the desire to scream as he sat her gently in the cushioned embrace of the chair. They had helped her. There was no reason to take them off at the neck because she felt helpless.
"Lauren," Josh's fingers touched her jaw and she opened her eyes. That lean, half-bare body curved over hers. His eyes were on her face, not on her naked breasts or the low riding towel.
"Shit happens," he said quietly. "We're not teenagers here. We all know what we look like under our clothes. You were in trouble, we're neighbors, we helped. There's no 911, nothing but the three of us to take care of one another. If you're going to look at this in any way, think of it as a good story to tell Lisette later. Don't beat yourself up over it. "
"Easy for you to say," Lauren managed, trying not to look away, a cowardly way to deal with the overpowering sense of invasion his sincerity caused. "You weren't the idiot that - "
"You're not an idiot. " Lauren jerked at the hand that came down and clamped on hers. Josh squeezed her fingers. "You didn't know the door would lock behind you, you didn't know if someone would be coming to give you a hand, so you took the initiative and tried to help yourself out. That took guts.
Okay?" His tone softened on the last word, and he released her fingers to touch her face again, one light brush, tentative.
Lauren studied him, swallowing at the sheer. . . energy she saw behind those marvelous gray eyes. She had read a book, or maybe it was a sci-fi movie she had seen, where an entire galaxy was enclosed in a pendant. What she saw in his gaze reminded her of that. His proximity, his words and those eyes were all dragging her under. She struggled to stay above water. "You're being too nice about all this," she said.
"You're right about that," he said, surprising her. "If you'd stop being so pitiful, I could drop the whole chivalry thing and stare at your tits. "
Lauren choked on a laugh. A smile eased across his face, stopping her breath. He rose, moving out of her personal space, physically at least. "I'll see what we can make for dinner," he said.
"Dinner?" she squeaked at his back as she snatched the robe and worked her way into it. "I don't need. . . I don't recall inviting you to dinner," she wiggled the towel out from beneath the robe and belted the latter just as Marcus returned.
"But you were going to, because we rescued you," Marcus pointed out. "Besides which, Josh is a terrific cook. Here," he knelt before her with a first aid kit and a brush. He opened the kit and unrolled a bandage. "First I'm going to rub this with a wet cloth, and get a bit of the forest off. . . "
* * * * *
Lauren found herself at the mercy of a miracle, two nurturing men. Marcus cleaned and wrapped her ankle and then applied warm and cold compresses to it, exercising consideration to both her physical and mental discomfort. He dropped the arrogant wit in favor of comfortable questions about her visit to the island. Her history with Lisette, how she had gotten here, and then how she had learned to sail so well.
Pleasant small talk.
Josh cooked and threw a comment or question into the conversation now and then. Mainly he listened, with the same intent focus with which he chopped, sauteed and transformed grocery items she would have nuked or eaten raw into a culinary delight. The aromas drifted into the living area with the dim glow of the kitchen track lighting, rousing her hunger and relaxing her body, as the cloak of night took over outside the sliding glass door.
