Early that evening she left Stacy in the living room with her favorite dinner—grilled cheese sandwiches and potato chips, and her favorite video. Though pleased with her progress after a week of detailed planning, Damien’s continued absence worried her. All sorts of troublesome scenarios chased circles in her mind as she undressed in the bathroom off her bedroom.
Hot water ran in the tub, almost hot enough to steam up the room. She poured in a generous amount of bubble bath, letting the foamy water almost reach the top of the tub before she turned off the water. Needing to relax, she stepped into the tub and settled in until bubbles and water covered her from neck to toes. Eyes closed, she leaned her head back and dreamed of the future.
Without conscious effort, she saw Damien behind her closed eyelids. Her heart still carried a mental picture of Damien drawing pictures with Stacy at the table in his cabin. Other images of that week slipped into her mind. A contented but longing sigh escaped from her as she slowly opened her eyes—and choked back a startled cry.
Damien stood just inside the bathroom door as though she had conjured him out of her thoughts. Stark hunger darkened his eyes as his gaze raked over her. Her jaw dropped and she gawked breathlessly at him. She had not heard him at all. She sat bolt upright and water sloshed over the side of the tub. Realizing she was naked, her face heated and she sank back under the bubbles. Water lapped at her chin but she could not drag her eyes from him.
“You can’t hide from me,” he teased huskily as he reached behind him and closed the door. “I’ve seen it all.”
Memories blazed in his eyes and sparked her desire but her cheeks burned at being caught completely naked. The fact that he was fully dressed in jeans and a black T-shirt put a flutter in her stomach. Though he looked good enough to eat, she blushed even harder at the erotic memories flitting through her mind and tried to scrape together the scattered fragments of her composure.
“How did you get in here?” A curious mixture of desire and embarrassment had her breathless.
“You gave me the key when I left,” he reminded her with a knowing smirk.
“Oh.” Uncomfortable in her naked disadvantage, she gnawed on her lower lip as he crossed the small bathroom and sat on the edge of the tub. She swallowed hard and dropped her unsteady gaze from his.
ALWAYS A WARRIOR Patricia Bruening
104
“Uh—uh,” she stammered and cursed her sudden inexplicable shyness. She had been naked in his arms countless times. She was not a prude. But having him surprise her while she sat naked in the tub disconcerted her.
“What’s wrong?” he demanded without the teasing note.
“You startled me. I need to get dressed,” she murmured shakily.
“I’m not stopping you.”
Her gaze flew back to him. A slow smile of anticipation curved his lips. Amusement mingled with the hunger in his eyes as he stood and grabbed a large fluffy towel from the rack over the toilet.
“Come out.” He lowered his voice to a soft drawl. “I dare you.”
Unable to resist a challenge, she let out a slow breath, gripped the metal bar along the wall, and stood up. Water and thick bubbles slid over her skin, leaving her body wet and gleaming. Air much cooler than the water pebbled her nipples in hard peaks. She heard his low groan and met his dark gaze. If there had been hunger in his eyes before, he was starving now.
Slowly, as though savoring his favorite meal, he devoured her with his gaze and wrapped the towel around her. She held it secure over her breasts and shot an expectant glance at him.
“What?” he asked as though coming out of a trance.
“You’re blocking the door,” she said with a teasing smirk, well pleased with her ability to make him want her.
“So I am,” he acknowledged softly but made no effort to move. “I want you,” he whispered huskily. “I’m hungry. Get dressed.”
He reached back with one hand and opened the bathroom door. His other hand remained fisted around the edges of the towel, above her breasts.
Heart pounding, she blinked, certain he had been about to ravish her. “What?”
“I’m hungry. I want to take you to dinner.”
“Dinner?” she echoed, baffled.
He used the towel to pull her flush against him. Desire shot straight through her. She clutched his shoulders for support, thrilled at the heat of him.
“Yes,” he drawled thickly. “But I want the appetizer first.”
He lowered his mouth to hers, and ravished. Stunned by the force of his need, she parted her lips to his tongue’s swift entry and savored every nuance of his drugging kisses. When he finally dragged his mouth from hers, she staggered.