“Not tonight, Win.”
Her words are something. An admission of sorts, but I don’t feel any better.
Frowning, I study her profile as she stands there, still holding her backpack, her eyes far away.
Without another word, I sweep her into my arms, starting for the stairs. “What are you doing?” she snaps, and I’m glad to hear a little grit in her voice.
“Taking you upstairs.”
“I can walk by myself,” is her only answer. She at least sounds more like Katarina. But she makes no move to wiggle out of my arms.
I don’t bother to answer as I carry her to her room and then straight through to the bathroom.
She doesn’t ask as I sit down on the lip of the large soaking tub, settle her in my lap, and turn on the taps. Nor does she say a word as I pry the backpack from her arms and set it on the floor.
I pull off her sneakers and socks, wrestle her jacket off, and start pulling the T-shirt up her torso.
Her scars come into view, and I stop, my hand spreading out over them. That’s when I see a tear slip down her cheek.
“Why are you crying?” I don’t mean to ask a stupid question. She’s been through hell tonight. But I’m hoping to know which specific thing has upset her.
She swipes at the tear and then pushes out of my lap, standing and turning away from me. “I don’t need any more of your help. Thanks for starting the bath. A soak is a good idea.”
I don’t trust her. I recognize the tone she takes when she’s saying what someone wants to hear.
I stand, kicking off my Italian loafers, and shrug my jacket off. She spins to look at me, her eyes wide. “What are you doing?”
“Every muscle in my body hurts.” I take off my sweater, then my shirt, so I’m in nothing but trousers.
Her eyes are wide as they slide down my bare chest.
I know there isn’t much about my personality that’s cuddly, and my body is the same. Chiseled is the best word to describe me.
I work out religiously to help take the edge off of the hard lines of my personality.
“So go soak in your own tub.”
My lips curl up into a small smile. There she is…
“I’d rather do it here.”
“I’d rather you go to hell.” But she pulls her shirt off.
I smile at her words, but it quickly disappears when all her scars come into view.
She unsnaps her bra shrugging it down her shoulders like she’s gotten naked in front of me every day of her life.
The intimacy of it makes my muscles loosen and I undo my pants, shucking them down my legs and climb into the tub.
“Close your eyes,” she says to me. I want to see every inch of her, but I do as she commands as I sink down into the water.
Is she going to bolt again? It would be foolish. If she wanted to leave, she could have had the officer drive her wherever she wanted to go.
But a few seconds later I feel her enter the water.
When I open my eyes, I find her at the other end of the tub, her knees drawn up to her chin.
She looks so lost and it hits me in the chest. I’ve broken a beautiful woman. Not just her physicality. Her strength, her energy, is stunning and my betrayal has stolen both.
