She was nearly naked and the hottest man she’d ever seen was a few feet away. His hair was damp and he’d changed into jeans and a shirt that emphasized his physique.
Did she need anything? Him. In the tub. With her.
Embarrassed by the direction of her thoughts, she tore her gaze from him and cast around for something to request.
“Elsa mentioned cleaning my clothes? I’ve been wearing the same ones since they detained me. They’ve seen better days.” Dizzie wasn’t sure they were even salvageable, but they were the only clothes she had right now.
Killian didn’t respond.
Oh god. She’d asked Killian St. John to do her laundry. She’d fully submerge if she thought it would do any good. “Never mind,” she mumbled.
“This pile?” He pointed to the filthy clothes she’d scattered on his pristine bathroom floor.
She nodded. “And, um, these too.” Before she could convince herself it was another bad decision, Dizzie flicked open the front clasp of her bra and shrugged out of it.
Her movement shifted the bubbles, turning her camouflage into a peekaboo show. She kept an eye on the door, but he acted like a perfect gentleman. Slipping her panties down her legs was more difficult. Sudden moves would send a tsunami of water over the tub’s edge, flooding the floor, and leaving her more exposed.
She stretched her arm out over the tub, her underwear a wet, pathetic pile of white fabric in her hand.
Killian stepped into the room. Tension met humidity, thickening the damp, orange-scented air, making it hard to breathe.
The once-perfect water was now too warm as her body overheated. Her heartbeat grew louder. Surely he could hear it. Color flooded her cheeks.
If Killian experienced this same sudden physical reaction, he didn’t show it. He scooped up her outer layers, then approached the tub. He reached for her dripping underwear.
She held still as he approached. His fingers brushed hers, the slightest slide of flesh against flesh. More than enough to make her skin tingle.
Their eyes met. Her lips parted. Heat flared in his gaze. He tamped it down and retreated, taking his touch and her clothes with him.
What had just happened?
All she knew was that she could breathe again.
“I’ll have someone take care of these for you,” he said stiffly. “I’m sure Elsa told you where to find a robe.”
“Um, yeah, thank you.” Tongue-tied, she struggled for words. It didn’t matter, though. She was talking to his back.
He walked away without another word. The door closed behind him with a soft click.
Her breath whooshed out, sending bubbles dancing into the air.
Reeling from the intensity of the encounter, she took a deep breath and slid under the bubbles.
Chapter15
“Shit.”Killian rested his head against the closed bathroom door.
He’d knocked on the door with the purest of intentions. When Elsa had mentioned Dizzie wasn’t out yet, irrational worry had kicked in. Whether he was worried she had escaped a windowless room or worried something had happened to her… Well, he hadn’t considered too closely.
None of the scenarios he’d imagined had come close to what awaited him in the bathroom.
Fucking bubbles. He’d glimpsed smooth pale skin and the curve of her breast in between those bubbles as she’d handed him her wet underwear.
Dammit.
Cold water trickled down his wrist. He’d tightened his grip around her wet clothes. Time to find someone to take care of this.
“Elsa.” The internal communication system transmitted his call.
