My face burned so hot there was no way he’d miss it.
Damn him for being so beautiful.
“I saw nothing,” I blurted, stumbling back. “Not a thing.”
He snatched up the damp towel, covering himself as he stepped closer. “Kaia.”
I edged backward, gaze glued to his face.
Then his lips. Chin. Neck. Back to his lips.
They moved, forming words I didn’t hear, and I stumbled back down the hallway. One step. Another. Faster.
“Peque!”
Asher reached for me just as the ground slipped away. My arms flailed, pain searing my ankle.
“Fucking hell, Kaia!” He caught my arm, yanking me against him before I could tumble down the stairs. I blew out a shaky breath as his hand clamped my waist. “¿Estás bien?”
He panted, running callused fingertips over my face like he was checking for injuries.
I giggled.
Nerves. His body. His closeness. The careful, tender way he held me to his chest.
“Not funny.” His brow furrowed. “Did you hurt yourself? I told you to stop. Why the hell didn’t you listen?”
Would he listen if I had no clothes on? Probably. I didn’t have that effect on him.
“I’m okay, I think. But my ankle hurts.”
Sighing, he smoothed a hand down my hair. “No te muevas, ¿vale?”Don’t move, okay?
Fine. Like I planned to move.
Asher darted back to his room. A minute later, he returned in black boxer briefs. “Arms around my neck.”
He scooped me up and carried me into his bedroom. As he set me on the bed, I let out another nervous giggle at the wet towel lying there.
Asher grabbed it, tossed it onto a chair, then opened his desk drawer and pulled out a tube.
“Arnica cream,” he said, kneeling in front of me. “Let me see your ankle.”
I lifted my leg slightly. “You must be used to knocking girls off their feet.”
He frowned as he uncapped the ointment. “Sometimes I really don’t know what to do with you.”
I tried flexing my foot but hissed at the sharp pang.
“Don’t.” He pressed a palm to my sole while his other hand traced slow circles over my ankle, spreading the cream.
A moan escaped me before I could stop it. It hurt, but his touch felt too good.
“Like this? Still hurt?”
I shook my head.
He kept massaging, eyes flicking to mine every time I gasped. Eventually he’d stop—I didn’t want him to. Moments like this never lasted. Not between two people this complicated.
