Sexy bra. Tiny panties.
Nothing else.
He almost lunged at her.
“See?” Delaney angled her right side toward him. “I got rid of the majority of the blood. It’s just a cut. The slice was more a warning than anything else. If Kurt had wanted to kill me, he would have shoved the knife into my heart.”
Kurt is dead. Dead. Dead.
“But he needed me alive until we were married. I wasn’t going to be useful to him as a dead fiancée. A dead wife is an entirely different matter.” Her gaze fell to his right hand. “Oh, you have the first aid kit.” She looked back over her shoulder. “It’s really tight in here. You know, because…um, you’re so big and, um…” Her head swung back toward him. “How about we just slap a bandage on me and call it a night?” She crept out of the bathroom.
“I’m not just slapping a bandage on you,” he growled.
“Okay, Dr. Quinn.”
He wasn’t a doctor. His nostrils flared. “Come here.”
She closed the distance between them. He yanked open the first aid kit and tossed it on the nearest bed. Antiseptic wipes were inside, and he snagged them first. His left hand curled around her waist.
Delaney sucked in a breath.
Immediately, his gaze flew to her face. “I hurt you?” He never wanted to hurt her. “I haven’t even touched the wound yet!”
“No. You didn’t hurt me.” She licked her lips. “Just…sometimes, I forget what it’s like when you touch me.” She thrust back her shoulders, and the move just made her breasts all the more tempting. “Sorry, I’m good now. Go ahead.”
I forget what it’s like when you touch me. Yeah, they would be revisiting that statement. First, though, he cleaned the wound. He could see exactly where the tip of a knife had sliced into her skin, but, thankfully, the wound wasn’t that deep. His jaw locked as he tenderly cleaned the cut and applied the antibiotic ointment that had also been inside his new kit. She was statue-still during his administrations, and when he finally pressed a bandage over her wound, Delaney released a slow breath.
His fingers lingered against her skin. “Why were you marrying him?” Him. Him and not me. You should have been marrying me. But he’d screwed that dream up long ago.
“Because Kurt said he loved me.”
But did you love him? She must have, right? To become engaged to the man in the first place?
“Kurt said all the right things. He did all the right things. He charmed and he lied and he had me believing that we could have a wonderful life together.” A shake of her head that sent her hair sliding over her shoulders. “But he wasn’t the right man. I knew it deep inside. I just didn’t realize how much of a nightmare he was until…” Delaney stopped.
He waited.
She didn’t say more. Just stood there, in her underwear, breaking his self-control breath by breath. Heartbeat by heartbeat.
“Delaney.” A growl of her name. “Don’t leave me in suspense.” If she wasn’t gonna talk, then he’d have to do it. But, damn, how was he going to break the news that he suspected her asshole fiancé was an international criminal? After what the man had done to her, Delaney should believe him, but then, once he started spilling about Kurt’s crimes, Nash would have to tell her his own secrets and that was going to get extra messy.
“I saw Kurt kill a man.”
“What?”
“I tried to stop him.” Another shake of her head. “I couldn’t. He just—he did it and he didn’t blink, and I was screaming and lunging for Kurt’s weapon, and I tried to help the man but blood was everywhere.” She peered down at her own body. “That was when he locked me in the closet.”
He tossed away the used medical supplies. Put the first aid kit near the TV. And he went back to Delaney.
The woman needs clothes.
He jerked off his shirt. Extended it toward her.
A frown pulled at her brows. “Why are you handing me your shirt?”
“Because if you keep standing in front of me just wearing your underwear, we’re gonna have a problem,” he rasped. Actually, they already had a problem. That would be the giant dick that was shoving toward her.
Her gaze darted down his body. Her stare widened, and then whipped right back up to his face. “You?—”
