Crusher stepped out onto the porch, waited until Liza was around the corner and then turned out the light over the door. He waited for his eyes to adjust to less light and stared out into the night. The city's glow made it easy to see most things, except for people who might be lurking in the shadows. For a long moment, he searched the shadows. When he was relatively convinced no one was there, he entered the room and closed and locked the door.
“Liza was kind enough to leave additional clothing for us,” Marta said.
Crusher turned to find her holding a nightgown to her chest. “You can be first in the shower. I’ll make up a pallet on the floor.”
“Okay, thanks.” Marta hurried into the small bathroom and closed the door between them.
Crusher doubled the blanket and spread it across the floor in front of the door. As he laid the pillow at one end, the door to the bathroom opened.
“Uh, Crusher?” Marta’s voice sounded softly.
He straightened and turned to find the scientist leaning through the crack of the doorway, wrapped in a towel and nothing else. His groin tightened automatically, and heat rushed through him.
Her cheeks were a bright pink, the flush extending down her neck. She gripped her towel with her injured hand, tugging it upward over her breasts. “I can’t get the shower to turn on.”
Crusher told himself his gaze was focusing on the injury, which reminded him that he needed medical supplies. “Let me see if I can help.”
As he approached the door, she moved backward into the tight space.
Crusher leaned into the bathtub, turned on the water and looked for the lever that would shift the water from the tub spout to the shower. When he didn’t find one, he reached beneath the spout and twisted a ring that cut off the water and sent it to the shower head.
When he straightened and turned, he was almost chest to...breast with Marta.
She stared up at him, her eyes wide, her breathing shallow and swift.
She was so close, he could feel the heat of her body through the towel. His pulse responded, sending hot blood south. An uncontrollable urge to unwrap the towel from her body struck him square in the gut, making him stagger backward and out of the bathroom. “That should work for you,” he muttered, pulling the door closed between them.
He stood for a moment, forcing air into and out of his lungs, trying to calm his racing heart.
Thinking sexy thoughts about the woman he’d been sent to rescue had no place in this scenario. She was the asset. He was tasked to deliver her, not make love with her.
Focus on her injury. There’s nothing sexy about infection.
Crusher dug the antibiotic ointment and medical supplies out of his cargo pockets and laid them out on the small dresser. However, that little bit of activity did little to cool his thoughts.
He crossed to the A/C unit against the wall, adjusted the temperature much lower and leaned over the blower. Nothing short of an ice bath would be enough to cool him off. But this would have to do. Hopefully, by the time she emerged from the bathroom, he’d be back in control of his body.
Too soon, the door opened, and Marta emerged, her hair wrapped in a towel. She wore a floral nightgown that fell to the middle of her thighs, showing more of the scientist’s legs than Crusher had seen to that point.
Again, heat rushed through Crusher. So much for standing in front of the A/C.
“I’ll, uh,” she pointed toward the bed, “just go to bed. The shower’s all yours.” She eased past him and climbed into the bed, her nightgown rising up her leg, exposing more of her thigh.
Crusher grabbed the clothes Liza had left for him without looking at them and dove into the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind him.
“She is the asset,” he reminded himself, “you dumb ass.”
“Did you say something?” Marta’s muffled voice sounded through the door panel.
Fuck.
“No,” he lied and turned on the water to drown out any other inane utterances he might blurt out. He quickly kicked off his boots and stripped off his cargo pants and guayabera shirt. Without bothering to adjust the temperature warmer, Crusher stepped into the shower and let the cool water wash over his skin, trying not to think of the pretty scientist’s thigh and what else was barely hidden beneath the thin nightgown.
“Don’t be an ass,” he whispered, careful not to speak louder than the sound of the shower. “Don’t be an ass. She’s the asset.” He repeated the sentiment in his head over and over like a mantra. By the time he stepped out of the shower, he was more in control and ready to sleep on the hard floor. A little discomfort would go a long way to keep him from thinking about running his hand up her thigh.
Well, damn. His mind went there again. Would it be too conspicuous for him to step back into a cold shower?
Crusher toweled dry and pulled on a pair of gym shorts Liza had included in the stack of clothes for him. With his body still hot from thinking about Marta, he opted to go shirtless. Normally, he slept in the nude. The shorts were a compromise. He ran his hand through his hair, only managing to make it stand on end. Out of ways to delay joining Marta in the bedroom, he drew in a breath and left the bathroom.
