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He dragged off my pants and then stripped down to nothing himself.
“You’re taking one with me?” The question came out as a squeak.
“You can barely stand, so yes, I’m getting in with you. Unless you want me to dunk you in a cold bath?”
“No bath.” That sounded even worse than the cold shower. I watched as he finished stripping. How was it possible for a man to even look like him? He was perfect, everywhere. And I meanteverywhere.
“Stop looking at me like that. I don’t fuck drugged women, unless I do the drugging.”
I squinted.
“That was a joke. Clearly you’re too dull-witted right now to know, which confirms that I can’t fuck you. So, like I said, stop looking at me like that.”
I swallowed, realizing I had indeed still been looking at his body. Not just looking, but about to drool as he stood there, naked and perfect, silky, tan skin rippling over hard muscles and—
My Lord, did this drug act like an aphrodisiac too?
“You need to stop,” he said, his voice nearly vibrating.
“Huh?”
“Stop thinking what you’re thinking. It’s going to make it uncomfortable.”
It was hard to push the thoughts away as he picked me up again, carrying me into the bathroom against his naked chest.
The water was already running as we stepped under, and the frigid cold washed away every dirty, thirsty thought I had. I shrieked, trying to squirm out of his arms, but he held me tight, standing under the water with me.
“I’m awake. I’m definitely awake,” I said, gasping.
He stood there for another few seconds before we stepped out. He grabbed a towel, wrapping it around me.
He placed me on the bed and gave me a vigorous toweling-off that a horse would have appreciated. When my skin was rosy, he grabbed one of his shirts and tugged it over my head.
“I’m surprised you’re letting me wear anything. Might take the chill out of my bones.”
“The shirt’s for me,” he said.
I wished he’d put a shirt on for me, but he didn’t. He climbed into bed with no clothes on and then tucked me in alongside him. Didn’t I deserve some kind of barricade too?
“Put your head on my chest. It’ll help your heart sync to mine.”
I pushed upward, awareness creeping back in and making me leery about all this contact. The last thing I needed to do was kill him.
“I’m telling you, I’m—”
He wrapped his arm around my waist and tugged me into his side again. In this position, it was almost impossible not to lay my head on his chest.
“For the record, this might be overkill. I’m not dying.”
“Do you want to sleep?” he asked.
I turned to look at his expression. He was all sharp angles and determination. Knowing how dug in he got on a good day, this was a losing battle.
“Fine. I guess I’ll lay my head on your chest. No problem.” Considering how much he’d already touched me tonight, if I was going to kill him, it probably would’ve already happened. I was probably too drained to kill anyone after the poison.
I felt like I didn’t just lie against him, but molded to him. It was probably because my body was so weak, but it felt like my curves fit perfectly along his length.
He began stroking my back in a gentle, hypnotizing way, pulling the tension from my body. He’d dimmed the lights at some point, and the moonlight spilled in the room, as if he’d planned that as well.
