Page 40 of House of Scarlett
“Okay. Then I guess you’re good. Yell if you need me. I’ll be right in.”
A smile lifts the edges of my lips, and I don’t care if he sees it. “I swear I’ll be fine. I’ll call out if I need help.”
Even though he looks like he desperately wants to stay because he’s terrified of something happening to me, Gabriel backs away from the door frame and disappears into the bedroom. As soon as he’s gone, I count to thirty and make sure he’s not going to reappear. When he doesn’t, I acknowledge the fact that Iwantedhim to want to stay.
As soon as I’m naked, I slip into the shower and the hot steam envelops me. I let out a moan of appreciation, and before I can even open my eyes again, I know I’m not alone.
“You okay?”
I flick a glance toward the doorway and can’t help but quietly giggle. He’s standing there, his eyes averted, even though he desperately wants to check on me to make sure I’m all right.
“I’m fine. The water feels amazing, though. Sorry for the false alarm.”
His gaze cuts to my face, never dropping south of my chin. “Glad to hear it. Just be safe, damn it.”
“I’m fine, but you’re welcome to stay if you’re worried about me.” It’s definitely Bad Scarlett who pushes those words out of my mouth, but it doesn’t work.
Gabriel shakes his head. “I’ll be right out here. Don’t forget your robe is on the chair.”
He disappears again, and my smile may as well become a permanent part of my face, because I can’t wipe it off.
Gabriel is an old mother hen when it comes to worrying about people.It’s freaking adorable, and I love it.
Gah.This is dangerous.
Mostly because I’m not feeling as much like an invalid as I should, and I want to torture him a little. Call it my last bit of revenge for throwing me out of his office. Then again, no matter what you call it, it’s going to be fun.
Twenty-Three
Legend
“I’m decent,but I could use some help.”
As soon as her voice comes from the bathroom, I shoot out of the chair in her bedroom and my phone tumbles to the hardwood floor, bouncing on one corner and landing on the rug.Nice.
But I don’t care about the phone. I leave it where it is and rush to the bathroom where I learn one thing—my definition of decent and Scarlett Priest’s definition of decent are very, very different.
I stop short in the doorway and look to the side, but there’s a fucking mirror, so I can still see her.
A very wet, nakedher.
“I thought you said you were decent? You need your robe? I’ll grab it.”
Before I can figure out how I’m going to close my eyes and walk toward her without looking like an idiot, Scarlett laughs.Fuck me, I’d go ten rounds in the cage just to hear that sound again.
“There’s a washcloth covering everything that matters. I’m sorry my nakedness is so terrifying.” The amusement in her voice is what seals it.
I drop the polite pretense and stare right at her. “You think this is terrifying? Fuck no, this is torture.”
Her smile dims a few watts, and I want to learn how to turn it up again.
“Staring at my almost naked body is torture?”
I take a step toward the glass shower enclosure, deliberately letting my gaze trail down her face, to her chin, and then farther south to the tiny white scrap of terrycloth that lies over both her perfectly rounded tits. She’s shielding her lower half with her hand, and I catch sight of her Steri-Strip-covered incisions.
So back to the top half I go. Her breasts are more than a handful each, but not much more, which is fine by me. My dick twitches hard against the zipper of my jeans.
“Knowing you’re here and naked, and I can’t fucking touch you until you’re all healed up, is what’s fucking torture.”
