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She was exhausted. I could see it in her eyes. My heart cracked, wishing I would help take away her pain and feel it for myself.
“Come on.” I said, picking her up bridal style.
“Where are you taking me?” She was too sleepy and tired to fight. And I wanted to punch Brett. Where was my iron Rose? The woman who tossed a middle finger to the Bratva?
“I’m drawing you a bath.” I carried her down the hall to the guest bathroom. I wanted to take her up to mine, but it wasn’t the time. Seduction wouldn’t be on the menu until she was well. I knew that her mind was in no place for it.
I sat her down on the closed lid of the toilet and started filling the tub, reaching in to make sure the temperature under the faucet was right.
“Wait here,” I said.
She laughed, her voice tired and devoid of any fight. She had none of the bite that I would expect from my iron Rose. “I’m too tired to run anywhere.”
I kissed her cheek. It was probably the wrong thing to do, but I did it anyway, tasting her sweat on my lips. It was nice to touch her, to be near her.
I walked out of the bathroom, closing the door behind me. At the top of the stairs to the residences was Brett, his arms crossed in front of him, his eyes cold, shooting daggers as he looked at me. I chose to ignore him, headed to my room, and went to the cabinet in my ensuite bathroom. I grabbed Epsom salts, and then a heating and cooling pad.
When I walked out of my room, Brett was still there, making it obvious that he was watching me as I took the steps two at a time to get back to her. I threw the heating pad into her clinic room, then moved on.
I opened the bathroom door and exchanged a glare with the menacing man before walking into the bathroom where she was still sitting, her hand resting on her palm, her elbow on her knee.
I dumped half the Epsom salts in the bath, grabbed some bubble bath and dumped a generous amount in, then turned off the faucet.
She was watching me, smiling gently. I took it as a silent acknowledgement of appreciation.
I reached for her shirt and with great effort, she lifted her arms so I could pull it off.
“Do you want me to keep your shorts on?” I asked as I took off her shoes and socks.
“It seems a little late, since you’ve seen it already,” she said, with a hint of a joke in her tone. I was glad to hear that humor. Even if it was slight. It was like a sip of water to a thirsty man.
I liked her teasing. When I pulled her shorts down, her bare pussy unshaved in the last few days, and growing a small tuft of curly hair, I paused. My tongue grew heavy in my mouth as I remembered the taste of her.
“I haven’t… groomed in a while.” She admitted, but she wasn’t embarrassed. “I’ve been concentrating on other things.”
I picked her up off the seat and gently lowered her into the hot water, my arms submerging with her.
She moaned, and the wet clothes were worth it. She started to lean back in the claw foot tub, resting her head on the edge. A small smile crept on her lips. Within seconds, she was asleep. Peacefully breathing deep. I walked around the tub and pulled her hair from the ponytail.
I did my best to wash her hair with the shampoo and conditioner. She didn’t wake through any of it, and when I was done, I let her hair drape over the edge of the tub and towel dried it as best I could.
As she lay there, naked, soaking in bubbles and seemingly satisfied, I felt my chest fill with a strange sensation. It was warm and savory. I leaned my nose into her hair and simply stroked her cheeks and neck. It was nothing sensual, but brought me comfort. Being useful to this woman in a small way was giving me more satisfaction than plunging an ice pick into the man who had hurt her.
I drained the tub after twenty minutes, picked her up in a towel, and carried her back to her room. I dressed her in socks and a large t-shirt. The same one I had donated the first night she was here. And pulled blankets up over her, tucking them below her chin.
She stirred for a moment, and I started to hum her song. Her lullaby humming it at her forehead. It seemed to soothe her. She had a slight smile and moaned along with the melody.
I wouldn’t be able to stay. I knew that. Brett came in before midnight and took his vigil in the seat beside her. Without a word, I straightened and walked to the door.
“Would you truly fight for her?” Brett asked, right before I stepped out the door.
“I would kill for her,” I said. “Fighting for her is a small thing.”
“You’ll need to prove it.” He turned his head in my direction. It was very slight. His eyes narrowed, as if daring me to contradict him. Then he looked back at her and watched her sleep.
Chapter 31
Rose
