Page 22 of Locked In Ice

And it was only when she ended the call that Ophelia realized a tear had leaked down her cheek.

***

Thirty minutes later, she walked out of the bathroom as steam drifted in the air.She wore a pair of black jogging shorts and a white cami top.Her wet hair trailed down her back, and she probably should think about drying it, but that was just gonna have to wait.

Ophelia was too dead tired.

She crawled into the bed.Stretched out her legs and sank blissfully into the mattress.The bathroom light shone as the steam drifted out—she always kept one light on when she slept.An old habit.

She hated waking to darkness.

Her eyes closed and—

A knock sounded on the connecting door.The door thatconnected to Lane’s room.Her eyes flew open.

The knock came again.

Keeping her eyes on the door, she slid from the bed.Her bare feet made no sound as she tip-toed across the room.

The knock rapped once more.And this time, she even heard… “Ophelia.”Soft.His voice.

She flipped the lock on the connecting door and hauled it open.“What’s the problem?”Ophelia began with false brightness.“Can’t you sleep—”

The last word died in her throat.Lane filled the doorway.Big.Powerful.With muscles that flexed and stretched and were easy to see because the man wasn’t wearing a shirt.Just jeans that clung loosely to his lean hips.

It would have probably been polite not to ogle him.But it was the middle of the night and he’d come knocking on her door, so ogle away, she did.

Until her gaze hit on his scar.

A long, twisting scar that ran up his side.

“Shanked,” he said.“Had to let the bastard cut me so I could get taken to the infirmary.I aimed the slice, though, and made sure he didn’t hit anything vital.Still, the wound bled like a bitch.”

Her gaze lifted to meet his.

“Two years of med school,” he explained.“Changed my mind about the career last minute.When I planned for my escape, I knew just where the wound had to go so that the guards would be convinced I was in mortal jeopardy.”

She’d heard this story before.Actually, she’d read about the attack.The newspapers had been full of details.Even pics of the makeshift weapon that had been used on him.

“Either I made it look like I was dying or I would havebeendead in that hell within a few days.I knew my time was running out.”His gaze fell.Swept over her body.Paused on her breasts.

Because, right, white top.See-through since it was so thin and her nipples were at tight attention.Her arms immediately crossed over her chest.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“I ogled you first.”It seemed only fair to point that out.

“Sorry,”he said again.Rougher this time.

Her head tilted as she studied him.

“I…shouldn’t have woken you.”

“I wasn’t asleep.Besides, I told you that if you needed me, all you had to do was knock.”And he had.

His nostrils flared.“You smell so good.”

Her bodywash.Never leave home without it.But this didn’t seem the moment to point out that bit of Ophelia lore.

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