Page 60 of Criminally Yours

“It is, which is why you need to get in.”

“You’ve got the shampoo now. You can wash your hair yourself. I’ll go back to the tent.”

“This was your idea, and I’ll need your help to ensure all the blood is out. I can’t see if I’ve got it all, can I?” he drawled, making her skin tingle as if threads of electricity ran beneath its surface. “Either you get in by yourself or I’m coming for you.” The depth of his voice as he teased her hit straight between her thighs.

“But you’re naked. If you get out, I’ll see… everything”

“So you best get in before I drag you in myself. Unless you’re desperate to seeeverything.”

He lifted his brows as he walked through the water toward the edge.

Don’t look down.

But her betraying eyes did just that. The ripples covered him, but one more step and the water pooling around his waist would be at thigh level.

She needed that, wanted that.

On the one hand, she desired touch, but on the other, she was terrified she’d never be enough because of her lack of experience and fear of rejection.

She dived in, screaming as she surfaced. “It’s fucking freezing. You should have warned me.” She shoved him away as he stood before her.

“I did. Let’s hurry this up.” His voice was stern, but his stare was pure desire.

She grabbed the shampoo and filled her palm. “Turn, then.”

He turned one-eighty degrees. She gasped as the silver lines embedded in his back shone under the moonlight. “You’re scarred.”

“I should have warned you. I saw a lot in the SAS. Things I don’t need to talk about.”

“Please tell me.”

“So you can heal me, Doc?”

“So I can care for my friend,” she replied softly.

He stilled. Goose pimples covered his skin, and she ran her fingers across his scars, making him gasp. “Not now. I’m tired and cold. But later.”

“Do you promise?”

“Of course. I can’t deny you anything.”

Millie heart stuttered at the statement. “Okay. It’s not good to force you to open up when you’re not in the right emotional space.” As much as she wanted to push Strike to find out more about his past, to help him, she couldn’t betray her ethics as a counsellor.

“Thank you. The way you care for me means a lot.”

There was more honesty in his words than in any interaction she’d had online.

She worked shampoo into his hair, her fingers caressing him. She kicked her feet, attempting to tread water, but sank each time she tried to focus on him.

“You don’t need to struggle. I can help. Climb onto me. I’ll hold you against my chest.”

“Wh—what?”

“The lake isn’t that deep, and I don’t need to tread water. Trust me.”

She squeezed her eyes tightly, willing calm. “Okay,” she consented.

He turned to face her, and she tucked the bottle of shampoo into her bandeau style bikini top. His eyes widened as she inadvertently drew attention to her nipples pebbling her top.