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“Tell me. What happened?”
She peered at him over the coverlet, her hair dripping, teeth nibbling from side to side on the swell of her lower lip.
Oliver stifled a groan.
“It jumped on me. It must still be in there. Please—you have to get rid of it,” she begged.
He was desperately thankful for the distraction as he went in and scanned the bathroom. Even he recoiled when he saw it. The poor beast was huge, and halfway up the wall, looking for its own escape route.
“Is it there?” called a thin little voice from the bedroom.
“Yep, found it.”
“Don’t kill it… Just, you know, get it out.”
Oliver wasn’t afraid of spiders, but this one’s birth mother had to be a bird-eating tarantula. Bare hands were not an option.
“I’ll go find something to put it in,” he clipped out. A small plaintive hand reached towards him as he headed for the door, and the cover slipped. God almighty. Her breasts really were amazing. Stunning. She hadn’t even realised they were on full glorious show, she was so overwrought.
“Please don’t go.”
He tugged his eyeballs away. “The bathroom door is firmly shut. I’ll be straight back.”
She seemed to realise she’d dropped the bedspread and pulled it up with shaking fingers.
As he took the stairs at speed, his thoughts were a jumble, his breath fast and uneven.
What was that scar all about? Was that the reason she walked awkwardly? It made sense, but how on earth had it happened? The other brain blip he kept trying to erase was the overwhelming desire to plunge his mouth around one of those amazing nipples and suck.
Okay. He’d lost it.
Officially fucking lost it.
In the kitchen Andrea looked surprised as he manically banged cupboard doors and emerged triumphantly with a large plastic bowl.
“What are you doing, Oliver?”
“We have a spider problem. And an arachnophobic guest.”
“Oh dear!”
He didn’t addnakedguest. That was one detail too many. “Have you got a lid I can cover this with? Or a piece of card?”
Andrea, queen of practicality, had, of course.
Once back upstairs he found Felicity now sitting a little more sedately, knees bent under the covers, her hair limp and dripping. Her cheeks were still ghost-white, but she gave a tremulous smile as he entered.
“Got this,” he said, and went into battle.
Its legs had to be shunted with the piece of cardboard so they retracted into the bowl. It was a giant, he could understand why it would terrify anyone, let alone if spiders were your worst nightmare.
“Okay, coming through,” he warned as he marched past her, and she shrank back on the bed.
“Make sure you take it downstairs and right to the end of the garden. No, actually, could you cross to the other side of the road and walk to the end of the street before you let it out…”
He had to smother a smile at that.
After he’d carefully disposed of the critter and watched it scuttle in the opposite direction to the house, he went back to check on her.
