At least for the next month.
“Bring me coffee and donuts. I forgot to eat when I left. Thanks,” he said before he ended the call.
There was hot water, yes. But no heat.
When Rio’s showering was done and she’d turned off the spray, she was surprised at how quickly the temperature dropped. Yes, there was warmth and humidity in the bathroom’s tiled confines, but not enough. The only solution she had was getting dry and clothed. Too bad she didn’t have a—
“Here, use this as a towel,” Luke said.
Crossing her arms over her bare breasts, she looked at him . . . and caught her breath. He was turned away, facing the wall, the sweatshirt held out blindly toward her.
He was also bare chested, the muscles of his torso fanning out along his shoulders, across his back, around his ribs.
“Thank you,” she said roughly.
Taking what he offered, she put his sweatshirt to work, aware that as she passed it over her skin, that cologne of his was getting all over her. And she liked it. Liked the smell of it, but liked even more the fact that it was his.
“Let’s get you back in bed,” he said. “Quickly.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
She folded the sweatshirt, turning the soft cotton over in her hands . . . and then she dried off her wet hair with it. For some reason, as her breasts swayed, they felt heavier—and hey, she wasn’t thinking about the cold anymore, was she. Suddenly, she was as hot as the tropics.
Before she got way ahead of herself—too late—she set her makeshift towel on the side of the sink and put her clothes back on. As she drew her pants up her legs, she remembered when she had put them on.
A lifetime ago.
Meanwhile, Luke was still facing away from her, but had changed his position. His elbow was now plugged into his knee, his chin on his fist, that muscular back of his curved thanks to his height. His pose made her remember a picture she had seen in an art history book of that old sculpture, The Thinker.
And then she didn’t really think of anything.
She had known he was big and strong. She had felt that when she’d been carried by him. But she hadn’t expected him to be so—
“Here’s your sweatshirt back,” she said as she picked it up again.
Put it on, she thought. Please.
And not because he was ugly. Because he was so much the opposite of ugly.
“Don’t worry, I’m decent,” she muttered.
As he turned to her, his eyes stayed on her face. Like she was still naked.
“Thanks.” He took the damp fold. “You ready to go back?”
She should have glanced away as he dressed—what was good for the goose and the gander, or . . . how did that saying go?—but she didn’t. She watched as he straightened on the toilet seat and pulled on what she had just had all over her naked body.
And when he couldn’t see her for that brief moment, she reeaaaaally watched him. His pecs and abs were worth the look, flexing as he went through the bog-standard movements of putting on clothes, turning the simple work into something . . . spectacular.
Smoke show, she thought stupidly. That was the vernacular, wasn’t it?
Luke got up on his feet. “Feel better?”
Well, she was not cold in the slightest anymore. And she wasn’t thinking about all her aches and pains, either.
“Yes, I am. Feeling better, that is.”
“I can’t get you food quite yet. I thought I could, but it’s too dangerous. Everything’s shut down here until just after dark, so there are restricted areas I can’t get near without causing a problem.” He shrugged. “But as soon as the light is gone in the sky, I’ll take you back to Caldwell, and we can stop somewhere on the way.”
So they were out of town. “We don’t have to rush. Remember the situation you found me in? I need a little time to figure out where I can go that is safe. Who I can talk to. What . . . I’m going to do. How long can I stay here?”
Luke crossed his arms over his chest. “You can’t stay here, but there’s another place we can go. For a limited period of time.”
Rio frowned. “Where I was when the nurse first came to me. In that basement with the fabric.”
“Yeah, you’ll be safe there. For one night. Maybe two—but it’s not a permanent solution.”
“It doesn’t have to be. And thanks . . . I owe you.”
There was a moment of silence—and in her head, for some insane reason, she saw herself hugging him; pictured the embrace so clearly, she could almost feel the warmth of his body against her own.