Page 90 of Recurve Ridge

Steam wispedfrom my skin as I stepped out of the bathroom, pulling the fluffy sweater Alan had provided down over my stomach. My muscles ached, but the extra training Robe insisted on honed both my body and my mind. The additional mental work I garnered in Robe’s office helped keep that muscle toned too.

I knew without looking that Robe watched me, increasing the heat in the otherwise cool room. Ignoring him, I balled my filthy clothes into a bundle and tossed them toward the hamper in one corner of the room without breaking my stride to tumble face-first onto the bed.

“Oh, my fucking God. That feels good.”

“My little Mari, swearing?”

I raised my head just enough to crack one eye open and stared at him blearily. “Not even close.” I face-planted back into the pillow, letting out a small moan at the soft comfort against aching muscles. Even myfacehurt.

“You shouldn’t make sounds like that, Mari.” Heavy footballs announced that his presence was now a whole lot closer than where he’d stood a moment before. “You never know which monsters might be listening.”

“Donchuntas amunnsster,” I mumbled into the blankets.

“Your definition of monsters is skewed.” Robe interpreted Mari-speak with proficiency as he planted himself beside me. The hard mattress that felt like cloud heaven dipped to accommodate his bulk.

“Maybe?” I rolled into him under the weight of gravity. Broad hands rested on my shoulders and began to work the soreness from my strained muscles, tracing circles on my spine. “Don’t stop. Keep going.”

“What’s the magic word? You do have those in Britain, right?”

Britain felt a world away right now, one I never wanted to go back to. Ever.Much. “Fuck you.”

“More cussing. Such a dirty mouth.”

A ripple of tension followed his fingers as he resumed his massage. “I think I said don’t stop.” His fingers halted their progress. “Please?” The words slipped out of my mouth. I winced and waited for some testosterone-fueled repartee to strike me down, too tired to go on the offense.

But he didn’t insult me as he worked each muscle group, warming my skin and easing the soreness I’d acquired at his behest. I moaned into his blankets, dropping my face back into the welcoming darkness.

“Remember what I said about monsters, Mari?” His hands closed around my ribs, almost encircling my spine to my stomach. “Jesus, you’re tiny.”

“Nope, you’re just so big.”

A heavy silence fell between us. “We’re doing this?” Robe shifted, plucking at my sweater. “Take this off.”

ThatI couldn’t ignore. “What?” I took his advice and thought about the monster in the room, deciding I wanted him.

“Mari.” His voice lowered impossibly, and anticipation swept along my spine. “Take this off so I can finish your massage.”

“Oh. I thought you were suggesting….”

Breath rushed from him, and he pressed down a little harder, digging calloused hands into my skin. “Are you disappointed?”

I rubbed my lips together, burrowing back into the bedding, and didn’t answer him, afraid of what might come out if I did.

“Get up. Pants and sweater off. Now.” Robe left me where I lay.

Clutching the hem, I turned in time to see him dive into the en suite I’d recently vacated. I tugged the material over my head and shed the pants before sliding between crisp black sheets. Something about being naked in his bed left me in a wanton state of mind. Then I remembered how I woke like this in his room the first night I stayed in his house, then the night he first made love to me with Jon wrapped around us both. The memories didn’t make me feel any less aroused.

“I really was suggesting something else.” He knelt on the bed, holding a bottle in one gigantic hand. “Roll over.”

I stuffed my face into his pillow, breathing in the scent of him and Jon combined. “Oh, yeah?” I teased, slapping on my best American tough-girl persona, though my voice came out so muffled by the hard pillow that felt so fluffy after hours of training with Miller and Jon that my tone lost most of its effect.

The bed depressed as he settled his weight, straddling me with an enormous thigh on either side of my hips. I dared to take a breath, but he didn’t squash me like I expected. Something cool hit my back, and then his fingers slipped across my body. He resumed his massage aided by the oily slick that let him work me deeper.

I relaxed, lifting my head the barest minimum to speak. “Where did you get massage oils? Is there something you want to tell me about the sleeping arrangements here, Robe?” I yawned into the pillow and plopped my head back down.

Robe paused. “My sister,” he said shortly.

Of course I knew about his sister—her creams and body lotions were the feminine products I used. One more link to the outside world, along with Alan and Miller.

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