Her Forgotten Betrayal(42)

Cole’s body was coming to life beneath her touch, even as the scarred flesh on his back stung with his own memories of what had happened in the barn. “I promised you back then I’d never let anything happen to you.”

And he’d never meant that long-ago vow more than he did now.

“You promised me last night, too, and I believe you,” she said, while the turmoil of all she still didn’t know filled her gaze.

Cole craved having her in his arms again. But keeping her safe was more important. That had to remain his only priority.

“Let’s take a look.” He leaned in to her caress, lifting her other hand from the bowl.

“It doesn’t look so bad.”

He grunted, relieved to see that the bright red that had marred her skin had temporarily faded. “I’ll remind you you said that. It’s going to hurt like hell for a while.” He returned her hand to the water. “Keep it in there as long as the ice holds up.”

Her uninjured hand squeezed his fingers, and that’s when he realized he’d grasped it where she’d continued touching his chest. He squeezed back and let go.

“The hot water heater’s back there, right?” he asked.

She nodded. He could feel her agitation mounting as he headed to the storage room. She wasn’t the only one. The last two times he’d let her out of his sight, her screams of pain had sliced into him, making it clear just how strong his compulsion still was to ensure her well-being. He left the door to the kitchen open and crossed to the dated unit he’d seen earlier. The control valve for the monstrous thing was near the floor, almost completely around the back.

He pulled out his penlight and shone it on the setting for the heater, careful once again not to touch anything. What he saw had him mentally counting down to his next check-in with Dawson, debating whether or not he could afford to wait.

“Son of a bitch,” he said. A cold sweat broke out all over his body.

“What?” Shaw asked. She was standing in the doorway, her hand wrapped in a towel. “What is it?”

He ushered her back to the kitchen, his palm firm at the base of her spine, his fingertips brushing across the flash of exposed skin between her sweatshirt and pants. Possessiveness flooded him as he took that moment, that touch, for himself. It was hell, having to resettle her in the chair and make himself step away. Thank God the kettle started whistling. He took it from the burner, carrying out the homey ritual that was driving him nuts, even as he hoped it would soothe her.

Shaw dipped her hand back into the ice. He took tea bags from the cupboard, opened and draped them over mugs, then doused them with hot water. He brought the steaming tea to the table along with the sugar dish, a spoon, and the over-the-counter pain meds he’d found beside the tea bags. She watched him steep and discarded the bags, then add sugar to her drink. She took her first sip. So did he, even though he detested the stuff—another memory she’d yet to reclaim.

He shook two white tablets out of the bottle and handed them to her. For a second he thought she’d balk, but she sighed and flipped both into her mouth, washing them down with more of her drink.

“You’ll be glad you did that,” he said. “You need to rest. It’s almost noon, and you got no sleep last night. Plus your hand will start throbbing without something to dull the ache.”

She took another swallow, closing her eyes with the pleasure it clearly brought her. Not that he believed for a second he was off the hook.

“What is it, Cole?” she demanded. “What don’t you want to tell me now?”

He grunted again, thinking of the truckload of things he wanted to tell her and couldn’t yet. “When was the last time you used the hot water?”

“Last night, when I washed the dinner dishes.”

“And it was fine?”

“It was the same as it always is. Sulky, because the pipes in this place are older than God. But it warms up slowly. That’s why I didn’t think twice about putting the stopper in my bath without first checking the temperature of the water.”

“The heat on the unit has been pushed to its hottest setting.”

Her mug paused halfway to her mouth. “What?”

“It’s an industrial level a house like this should never be set for. If it’s been heating that high for hours—”

“Ever since I heard someone in my house last night?”

Cole nodded, catching the whisper of fear behind her question. “The water in your bath was probably close to boiling when it came out of the tap.”

“But…how?” Her mug clunked to the table. “I don’t suppose there’s any way the setting could have slipped on its own.”