Page 20 of Viper

“Christ, Paige,” he grumbled.

“Besides that, Craig and I spent the last few days together and I never felt unsafe. You and Molly didn’t know each other very long. I don’t think you questioned her judgment.”

“Point made. Have that pain-in-the-ass friend of mine call me tomorrow. And Paige?”

“Yeah?”

“Make sure he sleeps on the couch.” He hung up before she could respond.

Paige fought a grin. Of course Atlas would leave her with that directive. Jerk. The water shut off and her muscles tensed. She shifted awkwardly on the couch, her body tuning in to every little sound coming from inside the bathroom.

The lock popped open and she jumped. Troy stalked out with a navy-blue towel swathed around his hips. Water droplets covered the expanse of his chest, and his hair was slicked to one side. His gaze found hers and he paused.

She got to her feet. “I spoke with Atlas.”

Why are you standing here talking to him when he’s wet and half naked? She smiled so she wouldn’t grimace at how stupid she sounded, but the movement felt stiff and unnatural.

“Yeah?” He rested his fingers on the knot of the towel.

She let her gaze roam across his body. She was too tired not to admire it. And too tired to care how obvious she was being. Tattoos partly covered his shoulders and chest. The tantalizing artwork called her to inspect its lines. Below his taut light-brown nipples was a wall of muscle.

Her brother and the other guys always joked that Troy was fat, but he was just . . . huge. Not necessarily cut or shredded, but the sheer size of his muscles made her loins clench. And the front of the towel bulged in the right place, making her cheeks burn.

“You done, Paige?” The gravelly note in his voice jump-started something primeval and deeply feminine inside her.

She jerked her gaze up to his, an inaudible gasp hitting the back of her throat. His eyes flared with amusement—and heat.

“Uh. Yeah. Going to shower now if you’re done.”

Her response was anything but a recovery. She flashed another stupid, tight smile and nodded toward the bathroom. He stepped out of the way, and amusement creased his eyes. She sidled around him.

“Hang on,” he said, entering the bathroom before she could shut the door. “That tap’s finicky.”

He moved past her in the tight space and stretched his arm to adjust the faucet. His chest was so close that if she leaned in a few inches, she’d be pressed against him. The fragrant, piney scent of his soap wafted to her nostrils. He smelled clean, sexy, and like pure man.

Spray blasted from the showerhead. He shook his wet fingers before withdrawing them from behind the curtain.

The left side of his mouth tipped at the corner. “Don’t want you to get scalded.”

She wet her lips. “I’m pretty sure I’ll have a chill for the next year.” Her voice sounded distant and wispy. If he noticed, he didn’t react.

He tipped up her chin. “I won’t let that happen.”

His words beat through the echoey room. Her breasts tingled, and every cell in her body responded to his smooth promise.

As quickly as he’d touched her, his hand fell away and he moved to the bathroom door. “Feel free to use anything of mine.” He gestured from the shower to the sink.

“Thanks,” she murmured.

He shut the door.

After stripping quickly, she got beneath the spray and tried to force Troy from her mind. The task was impossible when the bathroom walls still held the reminder of his thick frame and the scented soap he’d used sat inches from her face on the shower ledge. There wasn’t any other soap available. Reaching for the bar, she suppressed a groan. Now she’d never get the smell out of her head.

As she scrubbed the sudsy washcloth over her body, a lump formed in her chest. Her skin was tight. Not just from the seawater but from the night’s events. From Craig’s rough hands, his lewd stares, and the fear still tattooed on her flesh.

She’d been isolated with a murderer. Had kissed him. Touched him. Been attracted to him.

And if it hadn’t been for Troy, she’d have been Craig’s next victim.