I’d heard the wealthiest people in the world bathed in hot, steamy water. I think I would have preferred that, searing rivulets beating against my sore muscles, but oh well. I’d take what I could get.
Finally clean, not a speck of grime on me, I padded to the dresser and pulled out a white T-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts. Both were big on me but they were soft and comfortable. I was wearing Erik Troy’s clothing. Someone pinch me. Or shoot at me. Or slap me around. I snorted. Been there, done that.
Unable to stand a moment longer, I fell onto the cool sweetness of the mattress. Erik’s spicy scent enveloped me, wrapping me in a sense of safety. Sleep claimed me in the next instant.
Drugging warmth surrounded me as surely as Erik’s scent. Delicious warmth, welcomed warmth. “Hmm,” I muttered under my breath, trying to wake myself up.
There was a heavy weight pressing into the curve of my waist, but even that was something to be enjoyed. I wanted to linger in bed forever. But a nagging pain in my arm insisted I wake up.
Sleep a little longer. So warm. So comfortable.
Yes, just a little longer. No. Not longer. Ow. Ow, ow, ow. Take a pain pill, Robins!
My eyelids fluttered open, soaking in the bright light of the bedroom a little at a time. The walls were multihued, not the plain gray of mine, and boasted of frolicking fairies and blooming forest murals. Where was I? Why did I hurt? I frowned.
I stretched my good arm over my head and arched my back—and hit something solid. Frown deepening, I rolled over, unsure of what I’d find. My injured arm screamed in protest and I squeezed my eyes closed. Deep breath in, deep breath out.
As the pain subsided, I opened my eyes and once again faced the world around me.
Every cell in my body froze the moment I spied what I’d hit.
There, beside me, was Erik. Sleeping soundly.
Instantly all of last night’s events flooded my mind. The shooting, the car chase…the kiss…being locked up, escaping…the kiss…
Had we…no, I thought then. We hadn’t. I would have known and Erik would not have taken advantage of me like that. He was too honorable. I knew that all the way to my bones. But more than that, I suspected he was desperate for someone to trust him, to believe in him, as no one in A.I.R. had done. Each time I’d mentioned that I trusted him, he’d given me a look of utter astonishment. And hope.
No, he wouldn’t have betrayed that. Much as I probably would have liked it.
I reached out and brushed a stray lock of pale hair from his forehead. How peaceful he appeared. How relaxed. Like a little boy, not a hardened man. I was kind of glad he was asleep. I’d never woken up next to a guy before and didn’t know quite how to handle myself.
“Good morning,” he said, his voice a sleep-warm purr.
I yelped in surprise. Not asleep, after all.
Chuckling, he slowly opened his eyes. Brown irises rimmed with black lashes peered at me. He rubbed a hand down his face, wiping away the sleep. “How’s your arm?”
“Hurts.” His ease helped relax me and I softened into the mattress.
“A little more paste and it should heal up nicely. How’d you sleep?”
“Like the dead.” I hadn’t even felt him climb into bed. “I thought you were sleeping in the other room.” There was no heat in my tone. Despite my surprise and slight nervousness, I was glad he was here.
“I was. You must have had a nightmare, because you were tossing and turning and crying for help.”
Hope I hadn’t said anything embarrassing. “Sorry.”
“I was happy to help,” he replied with a warm grin.
I couldn’t help but return the smile with one of my own. He was just too sweet. Too cute. Too mine. For the moment, anyway. Kiss him. I bit my bottom lip. I couldn’t kiss him with morning breath. Ugh. “Will you excuse me for a moment?”
His brow puckered in confusion, but he nodded.
“Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” I lumbered from the bed, cringing when my bruises throbbed. I stumbled into the bathroom, where I searched until I found a toothbrush. There were several new ones, the disposable kind, still in their boxes. I picked the green one, opened the package, and brushed my teeth, all the while checking my appearance in the mirror. My hair was tousled, wild, and there were shadows under my eyes.
“Good as it’s going to get,” I muttered. There, on the counter, were all the supplies I needed to fix my arm. Erik must have set them out for me. I applied the numbing paste, the stinky cream, the cooling gel, and finally the bandage. My lips inched into a smile.
Ah. Sweet relief. No pain. I could concentrate fully on Erik. And kissing him. Practically vibrating excitement, I exited and stepped back into the room.
Erik was not on the bed as I’d left him. Where had he gone? My excitement mutated into disappointment. A second later, however, he strode from the side door. I lost my breath. He looked good. Really good. He’d cleaned up, like I had, and now wore a pair of jeans, the adhesive strip unfastened. No shirt.
His skin was bronzed, ripped. His tattoo stretched over his stomach, his belly button acting as one of the cat’s eyes. Was it bad that I wanted to pet that cat?
When he spotted me, he ground to a stop. His gaze became a dark inferno. I didn’t speak as I walked to the bed and lay back down. He did the same. We faced each other, not touching. Just knowing. I could feel the blood rushing through my veins, an awakened river.
I didn’t want to let fear rule my life anymore. I didn’t want to be a coward and not do the things I wanted most. And right now I wanted to kiss Erik Troy.
Right now, I wanted everything he had to give.
Still silent, I leaned toward him. As it turned out, I didn’t have to say anything. He met me in the middle. Our lips meshed, both opening automatically. Our tongues thrust together and his warm, minty flavor danced across my tastebuds.
One of his hands tangled in my hair, pulling me so close our teeth banged together. His other hand wrapped around my waist, trailing heat up and down my spine. Delicious heat.
I flattened my palms on his chest and his tiny ni**les speared me. I could feel the quickness of his heartbeat. His skin was hot, so hot. Burning. Our bodies pressed together—mmm, I wanted to arch and moan, did arch, did moan—and then he was rubbing against me.
Hot before. Blistered now.
I panted his name. “Erik. Erik.”
“I’m right here, baby.” He cupped my breast, kneading.
I gasped in surprised delight.
“I want to make you feel good,” he said.