“I know,” she reassured him. That wasn't what she meant. She couldn’t find the words to explain the swirling complexity of her thoughts. Instead, she said the first thing that came to her and hoped he could see everything she felt in her eyes. “I trust you.”
It must have been enough. James leaned even closer, his sky-blue Shadows churning. “I don’t deserve you, baby. But I will.” It was a vow.
Riley’s Shadows poured out, desperate to touch him, and his responded immediately. They danced seamlessly together, growing in waves, building their connection. Taking it higher, deeper, and ever more potent.
“Riley,” he murmured, his voice rough and low. “What do you need? We can rest, if—”
No. She didn’t want to rest. She wanted to feel him on every part of her body and know that he was safe. But she didn’t want to do it with the taint of the stone dagger still lingering.
“Come with me.” She tugged his hand, and he followed her into the luxurious ensuite.
His eyes flared, watching her in the mirror as she stripped off her shirt and dropped it on the floor with her bra. Her hands still trembled, and her skin was sticky with the memory of dark Shadows and cruelty. She needed to be clean. And she needed James with her.
She stepped out of her boots and jeans and kicked them away, leaning over to turn on the water as James pulled off his clothes with rough efficiency.
Her shower was a massive, glass-walled enclosure with a three-headed spray, and she’d never appreciated it as much as she did in that moment. The water washot.It beat down on her skin, washing away the grime and fear. Beside her, James soaped and rinsed his body. Such an unremarkable, ordinary thing to do. And yet somehow so human. She shivered, goose bumps breaking out from the combination of heat and relief that he was safe.
James watched her with concern, as if whatever was written on her face distressed him too. “It’s often like this. Coming back down,” he murmured. “But you did so well. You were incredible. Standing up to Gordon like that.” His voice fell to a rasp. “You saved David. You savedme.”
She brushed her fingers down his cheek. “I’m okay. I’m more worried about you.”
He shrugged, big shoulders rolling as he repeated her words. “I’m okay.”
“Are you? Really?”
A slight smile tugged the corner of his mouth up. “I am now.” He brushed her damp hair back, tucking it behind her ears. “There’s only one thing that I want.”
She raised an eyebrow and his smile spread further as he continued, “And that’s to make sure you have what you need.”
He turned her gently until she was facing the tiled wall and pressed a slow kiss to the top of her spine. She heard a click, and then the warm sweetness of her geranium-scented shampoo surrounded her. James’s fingers slid into her hair, massaging her head with firm strokes, and her eyes fluttered closed. Hot water beat down, steam rising in billows, and slowly her thudding heart settled.
He rinsed her hair and then massaged in the conditioner as she sighed. His fingers worked through the strands, tugging gently, a prickle of delicious sensitivity, and hours of tension slowly melted under his care.
When he finished her hair, he soaped his hands and washed her back, strong fingers pressing into her aching muscles, working out the knots and pains until she was entirely made of languid heat.
James washed off the last of the soap and pressed another kiss into the nape of her neck. “How tired are you?” he asked, breath tickling against her skin.
She blinked, brain working slowly.
“Let’s get you dry and in your bed,” he murmured, starting to move back. “A nap will help.”
What? That woke her up. She turned to look at him over her shoulder, meeting the need in his eyes with her own. “I don’t want to be dry. Or have a nap.”
“Really?”
“Really!”
James chuckled, a sudden sound of real joy, his gaze flicking from her eyes to her mouth and back again. “So that means you’d prefer to be… wet.”
He let the words hang, heated, in the air between them, and Riley licked her lips, shivering as he tracked the slow movement of her tongue.
“Yes,” she whispered, “that’s exactly what I’d prefer.”
James closed the distance between them once more, his chest against her back. His hands settled on her hips, fingertips curling around the top of her iliac crests as he bent to kiss her.
His face was wet, lips sliding against hers as their tongues met, teasing and dancing in the heated steam. She twisted further to reach him better, their mouths not quite sealing.
She wanted to let him in deeper. To taste him, feel him everywhere. She started to turn, but James growled, crowding her forward, pinning her against the wall. The tiles were cool, but her body was flushed and languid, and James was searing as he surrounded her, holding her. It was exactly what she needed.
