Page 155 of My Ruthless Opponent

I wake up the next day with a frown when I don’t find him wrapped around me.

I turn my head to the side and sigh in relief when I find Raleigh still in bed, propped on one elbow, staring down at me.

His hair is rumpled in a beautiful mess.

“You are here.” I touch his face, caressing his stubbled cheek.

He twists his head and kisses my bandaged palm. My heart flutters in my chest.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

For a moment, I stare at him in confusion. Then I remember. He is asking about my injuries. “I am fine.”

“Good.” He smiles down at me.

“Did you sleep well?” I stroke his face before pushing his hair off his forehead. I run my fingers in his hair, massaging his scalp.

His eyes fall shut. “I did.”

I stare at him for a beat. He is back. My Raleigh is back and he is talking to me like last night never happened.

Taking his easiness and relaxed form as a green light, I try to talk to him.

“About last night—”

“Shower with me.” He cuts me off and pulls back, leaving my hand suspended in the air.

He rounds the bed and lifts me in his arms, not quite meeting my eyes.

There is no possible way I could talk to him about last night again after his curt response.

He doesn’t want to talk about it.

When he tries to undress me, I stop him. “I said I am fine. I can shower on my own.”

My bandages are waterproof. I am lucky that the fragments of glass were all removed and there’s no inflammation. In a nutshell, I can shower and carry out the usual chores.

His stormy baby blue eyes collide with mine. “I want to take care of you.”So do I.

Maybe he needs this. If doing this would calm his chaos then I am willing to let him do anything to me.

I give him a small smile, my palms cupping his cheeks. “I am all yours.”

He blows out a breath. “Yes, you are all mine.”

He strips me off my clothes. He gets rid of his boxers then guides me inside the shower stall.

He turns on the shower and twists the knobs to adjust the temperature of the multiple heads.

He holds his hand under the spray. When he is content with the temperature, he offers me his hand.

I gasp when he pulls me against him, the hot steamy water feeling good.

He washes me carefully. My body wakes up when he soaps up my breasts and then moves down.

His growing hardness against my stomach indicates he is just as aroused as I am. But he doesn’t act on it.

When he reaches south, I tense. My body trembles when his fingers brush against my clit.

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