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“I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time.” She sinks farther into the bubbles with a sigh.

Me too, I think to myself. Unable to fight the pull any longer, I reach out to brush a wayward hair off her forehead.

“I want you,” she moans, and I’m speechless. “But we can’t. I can’t—I’m sorry…not tonight.”

“Scarlett, shhh. It’s fine, really. I don’t expect you to, especially after everything,” I assure her.

“No, it’s not that. I mean, it’s not because of that. It’s just…I’m confused. There’s someone else. Was someone.”

Of course. It always comes back to him.

“I see.” It’s all I can think to say, careful to hide my disappointment.

I came here with a plan—a purpose—but she crawled her way into my skin, and instead of using her, I want to save her. Somewhere along the way, this stopped being about Piers and started being about her.

“Well, if you’re sure there’s no one I can call, I’ll leave you to it. Make sure to lock up.” I stand back, gripping the doorframe, and study the tiles on the floor. I need to clear my head, and I can’t think with her naked body within my reach and sweet scent clouding my senses.

“You are angry with me,” she whispers, but there’s no emotion evident in her tone.

I grip the wood tighter, resting my forehead against my forearm. Rubbing back and forth in frustration, hoping it will make the perfect answer magically appear in my mind. It doesn’t, so I try this truth thing again. Well…parts of the truth.

“Scarlett, I’m not mad at you.” I peek at her, keeping my head to one side. “This whole situation is fucked up. There is something here, something I can’t explain. I know you feel it too. I see it in your eyes. All of it—the desire, the longing, the hesitation, and even the sadness.” Her eyes widen, but she keeps them locked on me. I drop my arms and scrub my hands down my face.

“I didn’t come here planning to run into you. To save you or seduce you,” I choke out the lie. “I’m just as caught off guard by all of this as you are.” I risk glancing at her once more, telling the truth this time. She’s staring into the water, moving her hands in slow circles, creating ripples. Following her gaze, I see the bubbles starting to dissolve. Much like my willpower.

“But there is something here, and I don’t know what the hell to do about it. What you want me to do about it, what I want to do about it—”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know either.” This time, her voice is full of emotion. Regret. She shivers.

“Here.” Turning, I reach for a large terry bath towel and hold it out to her. Instead of taking it, she surprises me by slowly standing. I lift the towel, holding it wide open with both arms while directing my gaze upwards. Stepping back, she fumbles slightly, which sends her crashing into my chest once more.

Bringing my arms around her, I wrap the luxurious cream cloth around her shoulders, drop my hands, and step back before my gesture turns into an embrace.

“Thanks.” She turns toward me, eyes sad and tangled blond hair dripping on the ends. My hands take cover in my denim pockets, needing a place to restrain them from reaching out to her. I’ve done enough touching.

“I’ll wait here while you dress, if you’re okay to walk.”

She nods before walking from the room. I shut the door after her and release all the air from my lungs. My head connects with the heavy wood and stays there while I try to get my thoughts under control. Why did I come? Why did I need her to get to him? Why did I approach her? Why fight for her? Why help her? Why stay?

I’m breaking all the rules, blurring all the lines. I need to get a handle on it. I’ve just never had someone look at me the way she does. Like she needs me to save her. Not just from the grabby hands of Alan, or even Piers’ obliviousness—she needs me to save her from herself. I’ve been desired, wanted, and even needed. But what she wants from me may be the one thing I’m not capable of giving. Because in order to save her, I may lose myself. That’s a risk I’m not sure I can take, no matter how baldy I want to. But even if I can’t save her from herself, I can save her from me, from my vengeance, by not involving her any more than I already have.

“All clear,” she calls out, and I take a deep breath before entering her suite. She’s sitting in bed, on top of the beige duvet, resting on a mountain of pillows. Black silk pajamas cover her pale skin, and her damp blond hair is wrapped in some sort of messy knot on the top of her head.

“You feeling okay?” I ask, feeling more awkward standing here while she’s fully dressed than I was holding her wrapped in a towel. “Ankle.”

She shrugs, rolling her ankle. “I think so. I’ll probably lay off the heels for a couple days.”

“Okay…well, ice helps…and keep it elevated.” I clear my throat, looking around.

“Thanks for the information, Dr. Cohen,” she teases, and it lightens the mood a bit.

“I have a feeling you would be a shit patient. Never following the orders.” I move closer to inspect her ankle for myself, really just wanting an excuse to touch her one last time. Taking her ankle in my hands, I massage it, and she falls back into the pillows, closing her eyes.

“Keep touching me like that and I’ll do anything you ask.” Her eyes fly open and land on mine, her cheeks flaming pink.

“Good to know,” I chuckle, trying to hide the desire burning me from the inside out. She pulls a pillow over her face before tossing it at me. “Time for bed, Scarlett.” Her carefree smile drops. Seems I’m not the only one with my emotions all over the place.

“Stay?” she asks as she slips under the covers, turning on her side and watching me. “Just till I fall asleep?”