Page 22 of Trapped with the Covert Ops Soldier

Smitty stood in the kitchen looking around for a moment. “You want to shower first?”

“Sounds good to me. I want to make sure all the glass is out of my hair.”

He looked around. “Where is it?”

“You’re not going to put me down, are you?”

He looked down at her and gave her a lazy smile she knew had nothing to do with being lazy. It was too full of promise and pleasure. “Nope.”

She pressed her lips together before she said something unwise. “Through the doorway and upstairs.”

He climbed the stairs, and after a quick look around, walked into her room and set her down carefully on her feet.

He kept his hands on her shoulders. “You okay?”

She liked having his hands on her way too much. “The dizziness seems to have passed.”

He studied her face. “Yeah?”

“You can let me go now.”

He looked as if he were about to refuse. “Call me if you need help in the shower.”

“Oh yeah, like I’m going to do that. Nice try buster.”

He squeezed her shoulders. “I’m serious.”

She believed him, which was why she wouldn’t call him. “I’m fine, really. A few minutes under some hot water and I’ll be back to normal.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” His tone was serious, not even a hint of humor.

She tilted her head to one side, considering his tight eyes. “You’re really worried, aren’t you?”

He stroked her cheek with a gentle touch. “Yeah, I am.”

A shiver went through her and for a moment she nearly leaned into him. No, no relaxing until she’d gotten herself cleaned up. “I promise to shout if I have any troubles.” She took a step back out from under his hand, smiled, and walked into the bathroom next door.

The person she saw in the mirror looked like she’d been through a war zone. Far too much of her exposed skin and hair was smeared with blood. “Holy shit.”

“Abby?” Smitty appeared in the doorway.

“No wonder you’re so worried. I look like I got trampled by a stampede of teenagers at a rave.”

Tiny cuts and the beginnings of bruises covered the right side of her face. She combed through her hair with her fingers. “I’m lucky I didn’t lose my eye.”

“Abby.” His voice contained a strained note she’d rarely ever heard from him. “Have your shower.”

She glanced over her shoulder. “Yeah. Yeah. Okay.” She waved her hands at him. “Out.”

He went and closed the door behind himself but she didn’t hear him move away.Over protective much?

She started the water and took off her clothes. Blood splattered her shirt and pants, too.

“I look like I was attacked by a serial killer,” she muttered as she waited for the water to heat up. Finally hot, she stepped into the shower and let the water clean the blood out of her hair. She carefully threaded her fingers through the strands, shaking them to loosen any small bits of glass. Shampoo and soap took care of the rest and when she shut the water off, she felt like she’d washed the whole incident away.

She stepped out of the shower, towelled off, carefully blotting her cuts, then wrapped the towel around her and stepped out of the bathroom.

Smitty leaned against the wall. He scanned her body with a slow deliberateness that made her feel like she was naked. “You look better.”

---