Page 10 of Redemption's Inferno

“Ah, hell.” He kicked off his boots and used his free hand to unbutton his jeans, stepping out of them and yanking off his socks. Without letting her go, he tugged his shirt over his head and then stepped into the shower with her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her head falling against his chest.

“Seen worse,” he muttered, putting her under the hot spray and letting the body paint and whatever else had been on her run off into the drain. When the worst of it was gone, he pushed her head under the water and turned a bottle of shampoo upside down, letting it sink into her hair before starting to rub it in. He washed and rinsed her hair twice before starting to clean her body. Using the bath gel on the shelf, he poured some down her chest and used his hand to rub it into her skin, wanting to keep the washcloth clean until the end. He’d never washed anyone like this before and it was strangely soothing and erotic at the same time.

“You shouldn’t have come,” Emilie said suddenly, her head resting against his shoulder.

He knew she was tall, but having her against him like this was strange; he’d never been with a woman who could lean against his shoulder in her bare feet. He was six feet four inches and most women couldn’t get above the middle of his chest, but Emilie fit perfectly in the hollow of his shoulder, her soft cheek rubbing against him. She was slender, more so than she appeared in clothes, and since he’d never seen her naked before, he’d had no idea she was so slim.

He ran a gentle hand down her back, his fingers running over each bump of her spine, and he sighed into her hair. “Did you think your friends would leave you here, without knowing how you were or what you were doing?”

“How did you find me?” She didn’t move but her voice traveled up to him.

“Warren and I go back a long way.”

“So he was a spy.” She smiled faintly, her eyes fluttering closed. “I thought so.”

“He’s a lot of things, Warren is.” He reached for the shower gel again and put some on her back, rubbing it into her skin with firm, circular strokes that both removed any of the filth that was left and also massaged her tense muscles. Though she seemed to be on the verge of collapse, her body was rigid against his. “Relax, love—I won’t let you fall.”

“Everyone lets me fall,” she murmured. “Except Viggo—but even he wasn’t strong enough to hold me up any longer.”

“Not true,” he countered. “He couldn’t hold you up because you left him. You can’t run, Emilie—whatever it is that’s haunting you goes with you.”

“That’s why you shouldn’t have come.” She nestled deeper into his chest. “But I’m glad you did.”

“Em, he was going to—” he stopped, scowling, too horrified to continue. “Bloody hell, Emilie, what were you thinking?!”

“I deserve it…” Her voice trailed off.

“He would have crushed your larynx or left you oxygen deprived for too long! You could have died!”

“But you stopped him.”

“We’ll talk about that another time. Can you stand?” He started to move his arm but her knees buckled and he gripped her tighter. “All right, let’s dry off and get out of here.”

Keeping her close to him, he wrapped them in clean towels from the counter and tried to ignore her silky skin or the way her body was draped across his. She was half-asleep, her head lolling to one side, but he was still a man and she was a beautiful woman. He was getting an erection and there didn’t seem to be any way to stop it. Swallowing hard, he gently pushed her towards the closed toilet seat and set her on it.

“Have you any clean clothes?” he asked, reaching for his jeans.

“My bag is in the bedroom,” she said, lilting slightly to the side.

“Emilie.” With a sigh of resignation, he dropped his jeans again as he picked her up and carried her into the bedroom, laying her on the bed. He dug around in her suitcase and found panties, jeans and a T-shirt. “Do you need a bra?”

She murmured sleepily. “Pocket.”

He dug around some more until he found the pocket in the side and pulled out the most utilitarian white bra he’d ever seen. He blinked, surprised Emilie would wear something so basic and, if he was honest, ugly, but she hadn’t come here to be sexy. Apparently, she’d come here to get herself hurt. Well, that ended now; he was going to find a way to pull her out of this.

He helped her get dressed, trying to ignore the soft curves of her beautifully formed breasts, the slope of her hips as he tugged up her panties or the endless expanse of skin on her incredibly long legs. She was gorgeous, and he wondered why he hadn’t truly noticed before now. Of course, he’d always thought she was beautiful, but she was his boss and up until recently had been married, so perhaps he’d ignored her as a woman simply because she wasn’t available.

Not that sleeping with her was an option now, he reminded himself with irritation as his erection grew even harder.

He started when her cool fingers closed around it. His head snapped down and he narrowed his eyes. “Don’t!” he said, more sharply than he intended.

“You’re aroused,” she said quietly. “It’s my fault.”

“It’s not your fault,” he said in a steely tone. “It’s a man’s physical reaction to a beautiful woman—but you’re not mine and I’m not interested in using you like those wankers upstairs!”

She slowly released him. “I thought maybe you’d want to…”

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