Page 26 of Declan's Hope

And then she just held him—neither one of them moving—while her head rested against his chest. No other sound competed with the steady fall of the shower and his heartbeat pounding beneath her ear—no television or music from anywhere in the house.

Did he just sit in the quiet darkness all day and drink? God, she hoped not.

Oh, Declan.

She held him closer, while his beard and mustache tickled her neck and his hot, heavy breath puffed against her skin. This had been what she’d needed since first learning he’d been shot—since waiting all those hours to be alone with him in the hospital—since walking away from him. Declan lived. And for however long he allowed it, she would stay here with him just like this.

Another groan left him, this one deeper as the evidence of his arousal pressed into her. She took in a sharp breath. But before she could fully explore her own body’s reaction, he murmured against her ear, “You shouldn’t be here." His arms tightened, even while the words left his mouth.

She had no plans on going anywhere. But the longer she stood there, the more her clothes bogged with water. And she was beginning to get uncomfortable. “Let me go, Declan.“

He tensed momentarily before loosening his arms in slow increments until he finally stepped away. He turned his back on her, bracing his hands on the bronze-colored tiled wall and hanging his head low under the spray.

She stepped out of the shower and shook out her wet hands. Everything about her dripped water—her clothes, her hair—leaving a spreading puddle at her feet. Her eyes remained glued to Declan as she slowly undressed. The lonely set of his shoulders spoke volumes as she toed out of her squishy tennis shoes and then her socks, before pulling the heavy fabric of her jumper dress over her head along with the long-sleeved t-shirt underneath.

A chill ran over her as she pushed her sodden half-slip down her legs, then stepped out of it and wrapped her arms around herself. If she thought she could work up the nerve, she’d just strip her underwear off too.

She dropped her arms and cast her frowning glance down at her chest, then over the curve of her belly and flaring thighs. Nope, there weren’t enough nerves in any part of her body that could give her the courage to take off her white granny panties and plain bra. So, alluring or not, they were staying on.

What does it matter if they’re alluring? You’re not here to seduce him.

Not that she would know how to start a seduction. Just doing what she had planned—taking a naked Declan in her arms while she remained half-dressed—was beyond the realm of anything she’d ever done before. That is if she ever made it back into the shower. All she had to do was take a few steps. But first she had to take the first one, which she finally did. Then she took another, and then another, until she pressed her body against his back.

Declan jerked, a long low breath leaving him as he whispered, “I thought you were gone.“

“I’m staying.“

His shoulder slumped at her words. But otherwise, he didn’t move. She eyed the bench seat running the length of the shower in front of him. The water didn’t hit so much there, so she urged him to turn around, then pressed on his shoulders. His frowning gaze stayed on her, his fists clenched on his knees as he sat.

What hung between his thighs was…

Wow.

She forced herself to lift her gaze. But she’d gotten an eyeful. Having nothing to compare his length to, she had to guess he was more than adequate.

"What are you doing, Hope?"

Her cheeks heated as she worried her bottom lip and met his questioning gaze, although a touch of humor swam in that beautiful, lone blue eye—along with some heat as his unblinking stare went over her body.

What answer could she give? She had no idea what she was doing either. To give her a few seconds to formalize her thoughts, she reached for his shampoo on a low, built-in ledge and squirted a generous amount in her hand.

"I’m…" She set the bottle down and rubbed her hands together. "I’m washing your hair, of course," she said in the voice she reserved for Toby. Declan needed to be shown how much she cared for him—that he mattered. This was something small she could do.

So, you’re going to wash his hair, then his…

She cleared her throat as her fingers went through his hair, working up a lather. Anyhow, she wasn’t going to do consider how far this might go.

Because I might just self-combust.

So she blocked from her mind for the time being what else she might wash. His head bowed as she worked her hands around to the back of his head, which was a good thing. His scrutiny wasn’t something—

"There’s a removable shower head above you." His large hands grabbed her waist and her own faltered in their task.

"Um…"

His gaze lifted to hers. "I’m just holding you steady."

"Oh, of…of course." She reached for it and unhooked it from its place, then gently ran the water from it over his once-again bent head while her free hand worked the water through his hair to get the shampoo out. But he didn’t let go of her. If anything, his hands squeezed.

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