He nods toward one of the bedroom doors. “You get the back bedroom. I’ll take the front. That puts me between you and any threat.”
Damn.
I should be joyful, overwhelmed with gratitude, but for some reason he just makes me see red.
The room is small. There’s a double bed with clean sheets and a minimalist dresser. The only window has security shutters locked tight.
The attached bathroom is stocked with basic supplies. Soap, shampoo, toothbrush still in packaging, and a first aid kit under the sink.
I go through all of the bathroom drawers like I might find an escape hatch.
Resigned, I sink onto the edge of the bed and finally let myself shake.
My truck is gone.
My brother is halfway around the world.
I’m trapped in a safe house with a man I don’t know, and my life is in a blender, with my career in the mix.
This sucks.
I need a shower to wash the smoke out of my hair, the dirt off my skin, the feeling of Diesel’s body too close to mine and his hand wrapped dominantly around my wrists.
Ugh.Notthinking about that.
I’m pulling off my boots when the door opens without a knock.
Diesel fills the doorway.
“What are you doing?”
“Brought you food.” He holds up a plate, then he holds up a military-grade first-aid kit. “And came to deal with your arm.”
He steps inside, places a sandwich on the night-stand and lifts my arm.
“You need to clean this properly. You’re right-handed. That’s your right arm. You’ll do a half-assed job and it’ll get infected.”
His attitude crawls all over me.
“I don’t care. Get out of my room.”
“No.”
He’s already moving into the bathroom, walking with that infuriatingly competent male swagger. He puts the kit on the counter and turns to look at me. “You can be pissed at me while I bandage you up. Won’t change anything.”
I follow him into the bathroom, fury making my vision sharp. “You can’t just barge into my room whenever you feel like it.”
“This is a safe house, not a hotel.”
He turns on the shower faucet, testing the water temperature without looking at me.
“Says the man who just delivered room service.”
He ignores me.
“That wound needs to be taken care of before you sleep on it. Get a shower. I’ll come back and bandage it.”
My hands clench against my jeans and I consider my options.None.
