Her breath caught and eyes widened at what she found. While the rest of the house had been a study in neutral tones and bland decorations, the bathroom was…glorious. A shower with at least a dozen showerheads, a massive jetted soaking tub, and a double vanity. Shades of silver accented with hints of bronze were threaded throughout the room, the space bright and airy without appearing feminine.
Declan leaned into the shower, his back to her, and the position drew his pants snug against his body. The dark fabric clung to his thick thighs and cupped his ass. As for his shirt…it was gone, tossed aside to leave him bare. The muscles of his back clenched and flexed as he reached into the shower, and her fingers tingled with the itch to trace every rise and fall of his body. Then she’d follow that path with her tongue and…No.
She could fantasize about him later. Specifically, when she was safe.
Declan withdrew from the shower and turned to face her and she really wished he had remained in place. Not two seconds ago she’d told herself that licking Declan was a bad idea, and now he’d had to show her the deep carving of his abdomen all the way to the lines at his hips.
“A. Hem.” He coughed, and heat surged in her cheeks.
She wrenched her attention from those lovely lines and refocused on his face. She ignored the smile that teased his lips and the sensual heat in his eyes.
“You can take the first shower.” He moved aside, striding to the counter and taking a seat on the gleaming granite surface.
Abby stared at him and he stared at her and she stared at him staring at her staring at him and…
“Privacy?” She lifted her eyebrows in question.
“Shifters aren’t modest.” He waved at the shower, water still pattering against the tile. “Get going.”
She narrowed her eyes, attention pulled from the hot water calling her name to the annoying male who thought privacy didn’t exist. “Shifters aren’t modest during a run, but I’m not used to wandering around with my ass hanging out around strangers.”
His lips no longer twitched, instead pulling back into a wide, sizzling smile. “That’s one fine ass.”
“I’m not stripping—”
The wolf moved fast. Not just fast, but fast. One moment he relaxed on the counter and the next less than an inch separated their bodies. He towered over her, more than six feet of muscular shifter male. His scent filled her nose.
“I worked too hard to get you here. I’m not ready to let you out of my sight yet,” he murmured, his voice soft yet still somehow loud enough for her to hear over the running water.
Except when he said “yet,” he made her think he meant “ever.” Her cat was warming to the idea of “ever.”
Abby shivered. From cold? From fear? From…desire?
“Declan…” she whispered, not sure what else she meant to say. She just…she liked the feel of his name on her lips. And how screwed up was that?
Very. The answer was very.
He reached for her. His large, scarred hands brushed her hair aside, tucking a few strands behind her ear before he ran a single finger down her cheek. “You’re tired, hurt, and dirty. We’ll start with getting you clean and move on from there.” His finger traveled along her cheek to her chin, and then he brushed the pad of his finger over her lower lip. “I saved you. I need to take care of you.”
“I understand.” Abby nodded and forced herself to remember their situation. She wasn’t his girlfriend, lover, or mate. She was a woman he’d saved and needed to keep healthy until things were resolved.
“No.” He shook his head. “I don’t think you do.” She opened her mouth to question him, but he quickly withdrew his hand and cupped her shoulder. He nudged her toward the shower. “Get clean. I’ll be here.”
Those few words soothed her, calmed her in a way she couldn’t explain. The night had been hectic—bloody—but she found comfort in a violent stranger. So very, very odd.
Abby stepped into the shower and sighed as the wet heat enveloped her in a welcoming embrace.
She tugged at the tattered remains of her clothes, panties practically disintegrating in her hands. A pull on her top had the fabric falling away with ease, and another yank snapped the elastic of her bra. She closed her eyes with a deep sigh and let the water’s heat sink into her bones, drive away the chill that’d consumed her from the moment she’d leaped into the sea.
One more step and she was fully beneath—
A wave of dizziness had her listing to the left, and her arm shot out to catch herself before she tumbled. A combination of exhaustion, blood loss, and the disappearance of adrenaline sapped her strength.
Note to self: closing my eyes is a bad idea.
A cry escaped her lips, the sound followed by Declan’s hissed “dammit,” and then two large hands gripped her biceps. His hold was firm yet gentle as he supported her until she regained her balance.
“Lean against me. I won’t let you fall,” he murmured, and she was too tired to argue. She’d take his support for a second while she fought to banish the wooziness. Except when she gave him her weight and experienced the feel of his unwavering strength, she decided she’d take more than a second. Maybe two.
“You’re gonna get all wet.” Though, in one corner of her mind, she recognized that she should be more upset with him for invading her shower. She’d get all indignant and scandalized after she had a nap.
“I think I’ll survive a little water.” He moved, stretching and reaching for items in the shower while remaining a steady presence at her back. “I can’t say the same if you fall and hit your head.” He nudged her. “Bend forward a little and wet your hair.”
Abby stared at the cascade of water. “I don’t think I can do that without toppling over.”
Did he groan? She was sure he groaned. Maybe. But he didn’t say a word, otherwise. He simply slipped one arm around her waist, his bare skin sliding along her slick flesh, and she shuddered with the contact. A tendril of awareness flooded her blood, and her cougar purred, reveling in Declan’s closeness. She shoved at the beast, reminding the cat that they’d just met the wolf.
The animal reminded Abby that she was the one taking a shower with the near stranger. The wet nakedness was all on Abby’s human shoulders. The cat was just along for the enjoyable ride.
She hated when the cat was right. Hated. It.
“I’ve got you.” Yeah, Declan had her in several ways. “Go ahead.”
She kept her mouth shut and did as he asked, fighting the vertigo when it threatened to swamp her. She lifted her arms, ruffling her hair and letting the clean water rinse away the worst of the salt water. She nearly lost her footing as she leaned into him once more, but he kept his promise and didn’t let her fall.
She rested her head on his chest, sending water down his upper body, but he didn’t seem to care. No, he ignored the soaking and reached for something else. The snap of a cap and then the squirt of a bottle was followed by the warm scent of sandalwood.
Declan released her waist, removing his touch for a bare moment, and then his hands were back. They sank into her hair, fingers massaging her scalp, and she moaned deep and long. His hands were gentle yet firm at the same time. When he reached the base of her skull, she dropped her head forward with a groan she felt all the way to her toes.
This time it was his breath that caught. He was the one who froze for a split second—just long enough to snare her attention. She focused on Declan, on the tenseness in his muscles and…
It wasn’t just his muscles that’d grown hard. His stiff cock settled between her ass cheeks, nothing but soaked fabric separating their bodies. A jolt of unease snaked down her spine, the comfort she’d taken in his presence gone with the rise of his desire.
Abby stiffened and reached for the wall, intent on putting distance between them.
“Stop.” His voice was firm but not harsh. A simple command he expected her to obey without question.
Abby was a questioning sort of girl. An accountant—audi
tor—had to be a person who always asked “what the hell?” “Declan, I appreciate what you’ve done.” She ignored his snort. “But the dizziness is fading.” She ignored the chuckle laced with disbelief. “I’m fine.”
“Abby, here are a couple truths.” One arm returned to her waist and the other hand nudged her shoulder, pushing her to stick her head back under the water. “Beautiful women make a man’s dick hard. Period. Even stinking of fear, blood, and the ocean, you’re a beautiful woman. You’ve got a body that makes men ache, and I’m holding you in my arms while you’re all wet and naked.”
She disagreed with his assessment of her beauty. She would have told him so if it weren’t for the fact that the longer he talked, the rougher his voice grew. As if the wolf crept forward to override the man.
“So, yeah, you’re gonna make me want, but that doesn’t mean I’ll take what’s not freely given. I’m an asshole and a killer, but I don’t hurt women.”
She didn’t struggle or argue when he helped her upright once more, and she definitely didn’t whimper in disappointment when he removed his arm from around her waist. She didn’t miss the feel of his callused palm on her skin at all. Or the heat of his palm, which felt more like a caress than firm support.
He remained a solid presence at her back as he shifted his weight and snatched something else—two somethings. In one hand he held a washcloth, a bar of soap in the other, and she grasped both. Which left him free to rest one hand on her hip while the other brushed her hair aside and bared her neck to him.
He lowered his head, lips grazing the shell of her ear while he whispered, “That doesn’t mean I won’t if they ask very, very nicely.”
Chapter Thirteen
If Abby shivered or moaned one more time, he wasn’t sure he could control himself. Not that he’d pounce on her—he hadn’t been lying when he said he didn’t hurt women. He wasn’t an adolescent kid who’d just discovered his cock. He was a hardened killer. A mercenary. A heartless bastard.
Not someone who should even think of caressing Abby, touching her until she came and screamed his name before sliding inside her wet heat.
Nope. Not him.
Which was why he steadied her and stepped back, letting her support herself. The moment she stood firm, he put even more distance between them. He left the shower, not trusting himself so close to her any longer, and sought towels in the linen closet. He grabbed a few white fluffy bath towels and snared the robe that hung on a hook just to the closet’s left. He’d still need to get clothes for her, but the sooner she covered those curves, the better.
What the fuck was wrong with him? Lusting after some stranger…
But was she really? She knew nothing about him, sure, but he’d been watching her for days. He’d read her file and kept tabs on her even when she wasn’t at FosCo. He’d…creepily stalked her. He admitted the truth. Hell, he embraced it. There was just something about Abby Carter that grabbed his attention and wouldn’t let go.
The water shut off, and he imagined beads of liquid clinging to Abby’s skin, sliding down her curves. God help him, he was jealous of water.
“Declan?” Her soft voice reached out to him and he tensed, fighting the shudder that threatened. “Can I have a towel?”
He swallowed hard and opened his eyes. Abby moved, the subtle change of her position grabbing his attention, and he met her stare in the mirror. The frosted glass shielded most of her body, but he could still see the outline of her breasts, the dip of her waist and the flare of her hips.
He was going to hell, and Abby was sending him there.
“Yeah,” he rasped. Or growled. A bit of both. The fucking wolf fought him with every breath, and it was determined to be present while in Abby’s company.
He snatched the towel and turned to face her, forcing himself to keep his attention above her neck. If only he didn’t think her eyes were gorgeous and her lips sexy as hell.
Declan only allowed himself to get within arm’s reach, and he held the towel out to her, releasing it the moment he could. Then, like a coward, he retreated to the counter.
Because he didn’t hurt women.
I sure as fuck seduce them, though. Can Abby be seduced?
He’d heard her moan, the hitch in her breath when she said his name…Yeah, she could be seduced. That didn’t mean he should. Abby wasn’t the kind of woman a man like him touched.
“I’m done. Are there any—”
This time he didn’t even turn his head in her direction. He grabbed the robe and shoved it at her. “Put this on for now. I’ll get you something else after I shower.”
And it’d be a cold shower. He could let his fantasies run wild after she was safe. Then he’d think of her on her knees, his cock between those pink lips and—
“Thank you.”
He rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck, moving uneasily while he tried to banish those thoughts. Now. Wasn’t. The. Time.
“No problem,” he grunted, and turned to face her, keeping his eyes on the shower as he took her place within the tiled area. “Just sit on the counter while I shower. I won’t take long.”
“I could go to the kitchen and—”
Declan froze in place. “No. You’ll sit on the counter and wait.” He tormented himself and glanced over his shoulder, gaze taking in her appearance in a single, sweeping look. She shouldn’t look sexy in his oversized robe, but she did. “I can’t keep you safe if you’re not with me.”
He returned his attention to the shower and focused on his next steps. Strip. Get clean. Dress so there was fucking clothing between him and Abby. Feed her. Sleep.
The wolf reminded him that he should sleep with her.
He shoved the animal away once more and worked on getting clean. He made sure the water was ice cold. His beast snarled at the frigid temperatures.
Then it suddenly decided frozen was okay because maybe Abby could warm them.
Horny little shit.
Declan took half as much time as Abby, efficiently ridding himself of sweat and grime before joining the little cougar. She handed him a towel, her gaze on his face and cheeks flushed pink. Then the tiniest slip of her feminine musk reached his nose, the scent of her attraction taunting his wolf.
“Like what you see, baby?” He tipped up the right side of his mouth in a smirk. Words and an expression meant to annoy her. If she was pissed, he couldn’t seduce her. It was one more wall to put between them.
She pressed her lips together so tightly they formed a white slash beneath her nose and she wrenched her gaze from him to focus on the bedroom—bed—twenty feet away. He’d think she was pissed if he didn’t notice the deepening of her blush and the increasing heaviness of her desire.
His cock stirred back to life and he swallowed his groan. Flirting needed to wait. “Let’s get some food in you.”
Declan strode past her and listened to make sure she followed. The patter of her small feet on the tile transitioned to soft padding when she moved to the carpet.
He paused beside the dresser to the right of the door just long enough to drop his towel and pull on a pair of cotton shorts. He didn’t miss the small catch of her breath when the terry cloth thumped to the ground.
Shirtless, he strode through the home’s main area and slowed, nudging her toward the couch.
“Go sit and rest. I’ll whip up something real quick.” He didn’t know how to make too many things, but he could feed her.
“I thought we had to stay together.” She gave a token protest, but swayed on her feet at the same time.
“I can see you from the kitchen.” He nudged again. “Go.”
She hesitated only a split second more before finally nodding and shuffling toward the seat. She flopped onto the worn leather and curled up into the bathrobe until all he saw was the top of Abby’s head.
And those sand-hued eyes—cougar’s eyes.
Declan’s wolf pawed him, gently scraping his nerves to remind him that they had to feed the cougar. She’d
been hurt and needed protein. Protein that only they could provide, so he needed to get his ass in gear.
He did. He turned away from Abby and strode into the kitchen. He focused on cooking—defrosting a steak in the microwave while he heated a pan so he could give it a nice sear. Shifters didn’t like much more than a hint of char before they dug in, and right now he had to appeal to Abby’s cougar. She needed the cat to heal her human body.
He split his attention between the stove and her unmoving form. He counted her breaths, watching as her chest rose and fell, and tried to forget what that robe hid from view.
He slipped her steak onto a plate and snared a knife and fork, quickly cutting the meat into bite-sized pieces. He snagged a bottle of water from the fridge—thankful he’d had the place stocked before the team had been dispatched to Port St. James—and went to Abby.
He placed the plate and bottle within reach on the coffee table and then knelt at her side. He took a moment to stare. Her dark lashes rested on her cheeks, the deep brown a stark contrast to her pale skin. Purple smudges marred the area beneath her eyes, proof of her exhaustion, and he hated that he had to wake her.
“Abby.” He kept his voice low so he wouldn’t startle her. She didn’t stir. “Abby.” He tried again, slightly louder. She frowned, a small crease forming between her eyebrows. He attempted to convince himself the move wasn’t cute. Or sexy. “Abby.”
Abby drew in a deep breath and released it with a low moan. Her eyelashes fluttered, gradually parting to reveal her cougar’s eyes once more. Damn but he wanted her. “Declan?”
“You need to eat,” he practically snarled at her, and he ignored her flinch. It wasn’t her fault he had a hard time controlling his own body.
She drew in another deep breath, attention snapping from him to the plate on the nearby table. “Steak?”
He couldn’t miss the yearning in her voice, and part of him was inordinately pleased that they were giving her something she wanted. Instead of answering her, he snared the plate and speared a hunk of meat. He held it carefully in front of her mouth and waited for her to take the bite.
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