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He lifted me like I barely weighed a thing and started down the path. I had to press a hand against his chest to stop myself from bouncing so much with every step. One hand gripped my thigh while the other held my side just south of my left breast. It was far too close and uncomfortable for my liking, especially because being pressed up against his warm body wasn’t nearly as offensive as I’d been imagining it to be.
I only hoped he couldn’t hear how fast my heart was beating.
The way down was thankfully much quicker than the way up without my shorter legs slowing us down, but by the time we got back to the house, Cameron’s neck muscles stood out tightly and his breaths were far more shallow than they had been. The sun had long set, and the stars twinkled overhead.
He set me down on the deck stairs before going inside without a word.
I tested my ankle and winced. Shit. I doubted I could even get myself to bed.
Cameron came back with a first aid kit and a washcloth. He loosened my boot, and I bit my lip as he slipped it off.
‘Made a right mess of this, haven’t you?’ he muttered under his breath before slowly tipping my foot this way and that. He squeezed gently down along my calf to my ankle before looking up at me. He was even more attractive with a sheen of sweat and dirt and his hands on my legs. Cameron cleared his throat before letting go of my leg and dragging those molten eyes away from me.
‘I don’t think you’ve broken it, just a sprain.’
‘Thank god.’
‘Or me.’
My cheeks reddened. Apologising and thanking him all in one day. What was happening to me? ‘Thank you.’
He cleaned the scrapes on my leg before eyeing me.
‘You’re filthy,’ he said and my heart all but stopped. Then I looked down at my dirt stained skin and clothes and laughed.
‘So are you.’
He lifted me up and moved over to the outdoor shower, standing me on my one good leg, sandwiched between the wall and his chest. Before I could protest, he switched the shower on, drenching us both, clothes and all. With one hand, he stripped off his t-shirt and launched it sidewards onto the deck. He then reached for the hem of mine.
‘What are you doing?’ I said, trying to pull the edge from him but needing both hands to balance on my one good foot on the now wet floor.
‘You can’t wash with shorts and a t-shirt on.’
‘Well, I’m not undressing.’
‘You’ve been in a bikini for days. It’s no different than your bra and pants.’ He had a point.
I released my top and steadied my hands against him as he worked off my top and shorts.
‘Turn around,’ he said, and I turned to face the wall with his support, closing my eyes as the warm water soothed my aching muscles. I heard the squeak of the shampoo dispenser and before I could protest, his hands were in my hair. His fingers slipped along my scalp and against the tight muscles of my neck. The surrounding air filled with the sweet scent of the shampoo. His hands were steady and sure, working the lather in while working my stress from the day out.
Fuck. It felt good to be touched.
I let myself just enjoy it, promising myself it was only for a moment. He worked quickly and efficiently until a tiny moan escaped my mouth. We both froze.
‘Sorry.’ Embarrassment burned at my cheeks, and I squeezed my eyes closed.
‘You’ve had a long day. It’s fine.’
He rinsed me off in silence before wrapping me in a towel and taking me to the bedroom, depositing me on the bed with a pair of clean pyjamas. He returned with a plate teeming with food and placed it next to me.
‘If you need any help, give me a shout.’
‘Where are you going?’ I asked as he pulled a clean tee on and headed for the door.
‘I just need some air.’
I struggled into my pyjamas and tucked myself into the huge bed, eating and cursing that stupid bloody moan.
