Page 22 of Beau

He handed her the comb and brush. “If you have trouble getting the tangles out, I can help after I get my shower.” His lips twisted. “My younger sisters swear I have a magic touch with tangles.”

Aurelie took the comb and brush, grimacing. Without conditioner, the tangles would be almost unbearable. “I might take you up on that,” she said.

“Good.” Beau stepped around her, his naked shoulder brushing against her arm. “I won’t be long.”

That brief, skin-to-skin contact shot a spark of electricity up her arm and throughout her body, leaving Aurelie breathless.

Thankfully, he entered the bathroom and closed the door before she gasped.

“Okay,” she whispered, very aware of the fact the bathroom door did little to muffle noise. “He’s just a man. A stranger. One you might not see again after tomorrow. Get through the night and move on.”

The self-pep talk did little to cool the heat burning through her. There was no way she could let him work the tangles out of her hair. He’d be close enough to touch. She wasn’t sure she could control her raging hormones.

Pulling the towel off her head, she dug the brush into her damp hair, yanking at the tangles, hoping the pain would put the kibosh on the lust blossoming inside before the man emerged from the bathroom.

She could hear when he turned on the water, the sound of the shower curtain rings sliding across the metal bar and a deep, soft humming sound.

Curious, she pressed her ear to the door. Her head jerked back as she recognized the tune.

Beau was humming the Elvis song they’d danced to at the chateau. The dance he’d ended with that kiss.

“Can’t help Falling in Love,” echoed in Aurelie’s head as she spun away and tugged again at the tangles refusing to release. She had to get through them before he came out. If she didn’t, and he insisted on working through them, she couldn’t be responsible for her reactions.

Her hand yanked at the brush. It caught in a tangle and bounced back against her head. When she tried to pull it free, she couldn’t. Her hair had wrapped all around the brush.

“Damn,” she cursed and tried to work the strands of hair free, one at a time, only making it worse. “Double damn.”

“Hey,” Beau called out. “Just stop there.”

She spun to face him.

He crossed the room, wearing just the gym shorts, nothing else. Droplets of water glistened on his skin, some trapped in the smattering of curls across his chest.

Aurelie’s mouth went dry. Holy hell. The less the man wore, the more handsome he got. She’d bet he’d look like amazing completely naked.

She ran her tongue across her dry lips as he reached her, her gaze rising to his.

He was frowning. “Don’t,” he said, his voice sounding a little choked.

“Don’t what?” she whispered, barely able to push air past her vocal cords with him standing close enough she could smell that woodsy scent. Her gaze dropped to his mouth, and her tongue swept across her lips again.

“Do that,” he said.

“Do what?” she said, unable to look away from his mouth, wondering if a second kiss would be equally as amazing as that first on the dance floor. If she moved half of a step closer, she could find out for herself. She licked her lips again.

“Licking your lips.” Beau gripped her arms, sending shocks of electricity through all over again.

Her pulse slammed through her veins, pounding so hard against her eardrums she could barely hear herself think. She frowned and looked up into his eyes, not exactly sure what he was talking about.

“You’re licking your lips, and it’s making me crazy,” he said softly.

“Sorry.” She bit down on her bottom lip. “Does it bother you?”

He chuckled. “More than you know.” With his hands still on her arms, he turned her around. “Let me take care of the brush.” He guided her to a desk, pulled out a chair and urged her to sit.

She dropped onto the seat, glad to take the weight off her wobbling legs.

Beau’s hands went to her hair and the brush knotted in the long tresses.

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