He was watching her face. “There are many pressure points by the sciatic nerve that runs down your leg. There’s one, high up your thigh. If you apply pressure on it, your limb will go numb a while, long enough for someone to give your leg a deep massage. The whirlpool jets did an okay job, but it’s not going deep enough.”
“Okay,” she said.
“Then maybe you can go to sleep,” he said, matter-of-factly, like a doctor to a patient. “You shouldn’t let pain take away your sleep.”
“Okay,” she said again. If he thought it was the pain, let him. “As long as it’s not more drugs. I’m getting a little tired of drugs right now.”
“Understandable,” he said. “Tell Dr. Kirkland you need a physical therapist who knows more than regular shiatsu.”
“At this hour? We’re not living in a five-star hotel, you know,” Helen said wryly. She regarded him for a second. His appearance here was too coincidental. Had he sought her out or had someone sent him? “We’re being watched, is that it? That’s why you aren’t doing it yourself.”
Heath looked at her coolly. “This is COMCEN. There’s always a possibility that someone’s watching,” he said, with a shrug. “But that’s not it. You don’t want me to touch you right now, Helen. I can feel your tension in your leg. I can’t fix it if your muscles fight me.”
She wasn’t fighting him; she was fighting herself. A part of her felt dangerously close to coming apart, and she wasn’t sure what it was yet, only that it made her feel vulnerable and that she didn’t like the feeling.
It was as if a curtain was in front of her and if she peered behind it, all she would find was impenetrable darkness. It made her edgy, unsure of herself. All she could think of was Hades. She wanted his touch. The memory of how he’d pleasured her tightened her body even more.
Nuts. Bonkers. She wanted something that was all in her head.
“I can’t relax for some reason,” Helen said. That was putting it mildly, but she felt compelled to give an explanation. The man was, after all, trying to help her. “Sorry. It could be because I’m naked and you’re not, but I’m not bashful, so that’s not the real reason either.”
Heath smiled again, and this time it was a wicked grin, as if a very naughty thought had crossed his mind. “I know the reason why,” he said as his hands continued kneading her sore leg. “I have all the proof right here under my fingertips and it has nothing to do with your leg.”
Helen had to smile back. The man was sexy as all get-out when he smiled like that. And he had very talented hands. “People read minds and you read nerves and muscles?” she teased.
He nodded. “They don’t lie. You’re tensing even more the deeper I massage. Plus, it’s just going to tighten up again once you get out of the whirlpool. No more swimming tonight or you’ll cramp up. I can feel it knotting under my fingers. See?” He stopped. His gaze was hooded, contemplative. “Helen? Try not to hold your breath like that or you’ll pass out.”
Helen ejected the air from her lungs. He knew. He didn’t say it, but he knew that it had nothing to do with the pain in her leg. It had everything to do with the vibration of the water as his hands moved up and down her leg, each small lap hitting her skin sensuously, over and over, until she could barely breathe. She had to tighten her insides just to keep from groaning out loud. A massage? Relaxation was far, far away. Not even in the same zip code.
“Someone told me you’re Number Eight in the commando hierarchy,” Helen said. “Tell me, Heath, is this part of your job, giving a prognosis for your target?”
“Flyboy’s right. Very little gets past you.”
Actually, it just occurred to her that every one of the commandos she’d gotten to know had, in a way, been evaluating her. “Let me guess. Flyboy’s a pre-serum assessment. Armando fancies himself as my warning or something. Alex Diamond’s an observer. I’m too tired to go on.” Helen gave a shrug and drawled, “Save me some energy, sweetheart. You tell me.”
Heath’s chest shook with silent laughter. She watched as the rivulets of water formed by the heated water trickled slowly down his damp skin. She quickly looked up and saw that he was watching her.
“Following your line of thought, I must be the post-serum assessment,” he said, chuckling softly. “Maybe there’s some truth in that. We’re all curious about the newest member and making our own judgments of your…skills.”
“Fair enough.” She herself was curious about them all. “So tell me your assessment.”
His hand on her knee started kneading again. “I know enough about drugs and their effects on the body and mind,” he said, his voice so low she had to lean forward a little to catch his words. “Add a bit of knowledge about nerves and muscle control, and a target can be rendered very cooperative within minutes, don’t you agree?”
They stared at each other as his hand continued its rhythmic massage. Every few moments Helen felt his finger or thumb pressing a spot by the right side of her thigh. She didn’t stop him.
“This serum’s effect on you,” he continued, not taking his eyes off her, “is of interest to me. I’d like to try SYMBIOS 2 one day and see what it does. Unlike Armando, who’s sensitive to light whenever he uses it, you’re extremely sensitive to touch. I can tell that you’re growing tired, both from exhaustion and from fighting whatever it is that you’re fighting. My assessment? You’re either going to go crazy like Armando when he can’t sleep, or you’ll find a way out of it. Whatever the problem is, let somebody know while you’re experiencing it.”
“Why?” She preferred to tell them later, when she didn’t feel like this. Yes, it was obstinate of her, but right now she didn’t particularly give a fig.
His hands moved a few inches higher. Something dark slipped into his eyes, changing his expression. “It’s coming to a point where you can’t control it. Your muscles are clenching so tightly you can’t even relax. What is it, Helen? What do you want? Tell me.”
His voice and his eyes were mesmerizing. His hand underwater was hypnotic. It made her want to confide, tell him her secrets. Helen pulled away. These COS commandos were dangerous, she reminded herself. Trained to seduce and trained to kill. None of them, it appeared, had a line they wouldn’t cross. And they were all testing to see how far she would go with them.
“An interesting debriefing session,” a voice interrupted. They both turned and looked up. T. walked in, towel in hand. “Derek said I might find you here, Hell.”
Heath stretched out his arms over the sides of the tub. “Excellent timing,” he remarked in a dry voice.
Seventeen
