Page 44 of Stripped

He chuckled. “For a woman so unconcerned with hotel germs, that's an interesting take on baths. How about I hold you up and you clean the parts that absolutely must be cleaned and we get you out of here?”

“No, I—” A huge yawn stopped me before I could argue and I sank against him, exhausted. “Yeah, okay.”

I grabbed the soap and cleaned everything vital I could reach. When I'd marched into the bathroom, I'd desperately wanted to wash my hair, because it gets unbelievably oily when I go a day or two without washing it. After a few minutes under the spray, I no longer cared. I just wanted to go back to sleep.

“Done, sweetheart?”

“Yeah.” I yawned again.

Zane turned off the shower and lifted me out. He held me up with one hand and wrapped a towel around me with the other. “You sit and rest, dry off as best you can and dress when you're ready. I'm going to make sure Aron and Payne have us packed up and ready to go.”

I did as he suggested and emerged what felt like hours, but was closer to twenty minutes, later to see Zane sitting on the bed, staring at his phone. He jumped up as soon as I took a step toward him, and wrapped an arm around my waist. “The guys packed your boots. I figured I'd carry you down.”

“That's really not—”

But it was too late, because he'd already lifted me into his arms and it really was so much better than walking. We rode down in the elevator in silence, but Zane's expression was worried, his body tense and not just from my weight. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I'm just worried Leopold might have some sort of ambush or something set up. I wish I knew his plan.”

I yawned, too sleepy to think about what I was saying. “He's not going to ambush us. He wants me to be his spy.”

I slapped a hand over my mouth. I shouldn't have been able to say that.

His eyes got as round as pancakes. The elevator doors opened and he stepped out and carried me to the truck. He put me in the passenger seat and then got in the driver's seat and looked at me. I'd buckled myself in, but I was already shifting in the seat, getting comfy, my eyes starting to drift shut. “I'm assuming you weren't supposed to be able to tell me that.”

“He compelled me not to tell you. I don't know how…” I yawned.

“It's okay, honey. You sleep. We'll figure this out later.” He looked out the windshield and shook his head. Then he picked up his phone and tapped a message into it. He turned the key in the engine. My eyes drifted shut and I fell into the blissful, cool darkness of sleep.

***

My stomach growled me awake from a nightmare about Leopold, a giant pineapple, and a vampire bat. Or was it a fruit bat? I don't know, but I was glad to be awake. I stretched and looked around. I was in a bed and it was comfy, but I had about ten blankets on top of me and I was sweating. I shoved the blankets off and climbed out of bed. My head spun, but I felt better than I'd felt the day before.

Sunlight streamed into the room from under a heavy drape and birds chirped outside. I was in Zane's master bedroom, still in the yoga pants and t-shirt I'd put on after my shower. Man, I was glad I'd been sleepy when we were shopping and had bought all those comfy clothes. My toiletries were in Zane's bathroom, set out like I lived there. I brushed my teeth, put my hair up in a bun, sniffed my pits, and deemed myself fit for company.

Zane's kitchen was at the front end of his house, so I headed that way, hoping to find some food.

“I'm not going to wake her up for this,” Zane said.

I considered pausing in the hallway to eavesdrop, but my stomach growled again and Zane popped into the hall. “Hey, sweetheart,” he said. “How are you feeling?”

He was by my side, one arm wrapped around my waist before he'd finished speaking. “Much better,” I said. “I'm just starving.”

“That's a good sign.”

He walked with me to the kitchen. I considered telling him I was fine to walk on my own, but I liked him touching me, liked his arm around me.

In the kitchen, the three burly guys and one very pregnant woman seated at his kitchen table all spun to look at me.

“Leave her alone,” Zane said. “She needs to eat.”

I rolled my eyes, meeting the gaze of the pregnant woman, who smiled sympathetically. “You're Julie Jacobs,” I said, like an idiot.

Her smile didn't falter. “I am. You must be Abby. It's good to meet you.”

Axel, who was sitting next to Julie, stood. “Have my seat, Abs. I'll stand.”

I took his seat and told myself it wasn't at all weird that I'd slept with him and was now sitting next to his wife.

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