He turned on the water, made sure it wasn’t going to scald her, then he looked under her sink for the Epsom salts. He found a box, and dumped a large amount into the tub.
When he stood, Christie was still standing by the door, holding the top of her robe closed with a tight fist. He got close and reached out to touch her arm, but she flinched away. Dropping his hand, he stepped back, made himself look as harmless as possible. “Soak as long as you want. I’ll be right outside. I won’t move, I won’t need to get a glass of water. I won’t make a phone call. I’ll be there.”
“Okay,” she said, “but…”
“What? What’s wrong?”
“I don’t have any clothes. For after.”
“What do you want? I’ll go get them.”
“I’ll go.” She stepped to the door and opened it, but she didn’t walk into the hall. “Come with,” she said.
He walked next to her, not touching, and kept it up until they were back in her bedroom, inside her closet. She got underwear, jeans, a T-shirt, a bra. Socks and sneakers. Then she headed for the door.
“What about pajamas?”
She shivered. “I can sleep in these.”
He didn’t say a word. It was smart to be prepared for anything.
They got back to the bathroom, which was warm and steamy as the tub was almost full. He’d already made sure there were no new bugs in here, so she could soak in peace, although he doubted that would happen. “I’m going to be right outside,” he said. “No one’s getting past me. So don’t worry about it. Take as long as you want.”
She put her clothes down on the counter by the sink. For a long minute, she simply stood there, staring at her T-shirt, her back to Boone. Her hands quivered by her side.
“Christie?”
She didn’t turn around. “Go on. It’s fine.”
He approached her softly, but he made sure she knew he was there. “Tell me what I can do,” he said.
“Make it go away.”
He could barely make out the words, but he heard the soft sniff. She was crying. He fought back his panic and concentrated on her, on what she needed. He’d never been able to deal with crying women. Kids, sure. Give ’em a piece of candy and they shut right up, but that didn’t work so well with anyone over ten. “I will. I wish it could go faster, but trust me. He’ll be gone. For now, you’ll feel a lot better after a long soak in the tub.”
He glanced back and saw he’d better turn off the water.
As he bent over the spigot, he felt her beside him. When he stood, she stared at him with reddened eyes, her skin so pale she looked as white as her robe.
“Stay,” she whispered.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“I mean in here.”
He bit his lip, not wanting to say the wrong thing. It was so quiet in the small room, not even the faucet dripped, and he wished he was someone a hell of a lot smarter. “Are you sure that won’t make you uncomfortable?”
“Maybe. But I’d rather be uncomfortable than so scared I can’t breathe.”
He nodded, trying to understand. After looking at her hopeful gaze, he decided he didn’t need to understand. He needed to do what she wanted, whatever that was. “Sure. I’ll go sit over there,” he said, pointing at the toilet. “You go ahead.”
He went over to the toilet, put the lid down and sat, angling himself so she’d have privacy and he could see the door. His weapon was at his back, ready should he hear anything. The only thing he heard, however, was the sound of her undressing. The soft thump of her robe hitting the floor. Then there was the whoosh of her touching the water. He wasn’t sure at first if it was her hand or her foot, and then it kept on going, so he knew she was naked. She was lowering her body into the tub. Getting wet. Getting warm.
His face heated as his mind pictured every inch of that body sinking into the tub. He thought about that moment at the gym, when he could have kissed her, and he wanted to shoot himself for being such an idiot.
After a deep breath, he forced himself to focus again. He was her bodyguard, not her lover. He had no business thinking what he was thinking, and he deserved the discomfort in his pants. His dick didn’t know any better, but he did. Christie was his client. Clients and sex didn’t mix.
“Boone?”
His name echoed slightly in that soft, whispery voice that came from fear. “Yeah?”
“Talk to me.”
“About?”
“Anything. About you. Where were you born?”
He closed his eyes for a moment, clicking through the alternatives. There were several things he could tell her, and if she checked, they’d all pan out. But it felt cowardly to lie in this room, with her being so incredibly vulnerable. “Tennessee.”