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Leo chuckles, the sound low and somehow soothing. “You’re welcome.”
As Leo leaves the room, closing the door behind him, I’m left alone with my thoughts. The room feels suffocating, the weight of secrecy pressing down on me. I need to find a way to uncover Leo’s secrets without jeopardizing our family, but it makes things so much harder when he’s playing nice.
I hate it. This uncertainty.
I can’t deny the facts—Leo has manipulated me multiple times, abused my trust, and used our relationship to prove his strength and lack of mercy to the people he wants to crush. But when he’s sweet, it never fails to disarm me.
Maybe it’s because it feels so genuine. That hint of disapproval and exasperation is just enough to make me believe he truly cares. And that makes the truth of his indifference that much harder to bear.
31
LEO
“Just let me help you take a shower,” I insist as Tia wobbles on her one good foot, her hand clasping the glass as she tries to lean her crutches close enough to the shower entry.
“I’m fine,” she says, reaching for the stone bench that sits along the far wall.
But it’s too far of a stretch, and she pitches forward with a gasp, her hands shifting to catch her fall. I step forward, closing the distance between us as I catch her just below her breasts, trying to avoid putting pressure on her stomach.
“Why are you so fucking stubborn?” I demand, picking her up and setting her gently onto the bench.
“I’m not stubborn,” she objects, her cheeks coloring.
I give her a flat look, then pull my shirt up over my head and toss it onto the bathroom floor. Undoing my pants, I toss them and my boxers into the same pile, then turn on the water and wait for it to get warm.
Once it’s the right temperature, I take Tia’s hand, interlocking our fingers so I can better balance her, then I guide her carefully to her feet. She leans heavily on my arm as she moves beneath the stream, her shoulder blade pressing against my chest as she lets the water rinse her clean.
Reaching with my free hand, I grab her loofa and hold it beneath the liquid soap. With my thumb, I squirt some onto the mesh ball, then I bring it to her back to lightly scrub circles across her creamy skin.
Tia scoops her hair out of the way, revealing a patch of goosebumps along her shoulders and neck. I smile, silently enjoying the way her body responds to me. When she glances over her shoulder, her look is shy but knowing.
To my surprise, she lets me scrub every inch of her, her eyes fluttering closed as I lightly circle her breasts and make my way up her inner thighs. We rinse her clean, then I guide her back onto the seat so she can shampoo her hair.
It’s rather sexy watching her massage the suds into her scalp and down her long, luscious locks. And this time, when I help her stand, she seems much more willing to accept my help.
I turn her to face me this time, unashamed by my arousal, as I grasp her hips and hold her firmly against me, supporting her weight while leaving her hands free. She leans back, putting her hair beneath the heavy stream of water and running her fingers through her hair to wash the soap from her scalp.
The view is more than a little pleasing as her pert nipples harden, and I get an eyeful of the delicate curves of her body. She really is fit, an understated kind of athletic that I hadn’t really considered before.
“Do you run?” I ask, suddenly curious.
Tia laughs. “Why? Do you think I would have gotten away if that cliff hadn’t stopped me?”
“Not a chance,” I growl, enjoying her playful response. “But you are fast.”
“Well, I should think so after having to chase four younger sisters around all the time.”
Tia reaches for the conditioner, balancing on her one foot. She works that into her hair as well, our bodies causing delicious friction as I hold her close. Then she leans back into the stream of water once more.
“All set?” I ask as she straightens, wiping her face clean of water.
“Yes, thank you.” Her voice is almost apologetic, as though she regrets arguing with me in the beginning. But I know better than to expect her to say as much.
Leaning around her, I turn off the faucet. Then I scoop her into my arms. She doesn’t fight me this time. Instead, her arm falls naturally around my shoulders as I step backward out of the shower, careful not to hit the glass with her feet.
“Grab a towel,” I say, leaning so it’s within reach.
Tia grins as she obeys, grabbing both towels and pulling them onto her lap. And as I carry her into the bedroom, she unfolds one to wrap it around my shoulders.
