Page 20 of Hunted

“I don’t think I could sleep if I tried.”

He swung his legs over the side of the bed with a sigh. “Then maybe you can help me solve a problem.” Leaning forward, he pulled a pair of jeans out of the duffel, dropped them on the bed. She watched him like a hawk. Her eyes were a little bit too interested in the way the muscles in his back and shoulders moved beneath the skin. And the way his dark hair fell over his neck, curling a little at the ends.

There was a strength about him, and she sensed it went deeper than just the physical aspects.

“What problem?” She wished to hell he’d put a shirt on.

He turned toward her, the duffel dangling from his right arm. Its weight made his biceps bulge, and for a second she couldn’t look away. Then she forced her gaze elsewhere and wound up looking at his abs. What was the matter with her? Hadn’t she ever seen a man with a decent bod before?

Yeah, she had, up close. She was a doctor; there was no body type she hadn’t seen.

“The problem,” he said, “is how the hell I can take a shower without you sneaking out of here and getting yourself dead.”

“I’ll stay. I promise.” Her voice was kind of raspy.

“You’re a terrible liar. Really bad. Listen, you wouldn’t get far. I’ll come after you, naked and wet if necessary, throw you over my shoulder and haul your ass back here. You can’t outrun me.”

She tried not to imagine him naked and wet and hauling her back to the motel room like some kind of caveman. And imagined it anyway. “I’ll stay.”

“You’d better.” He turned his attention back to the bag, pulled out another black T-shirt. As he did, a small, three-by-five photo frame clattered to the to the floor. It landed and she had a perfectly clear view of it in the light spilling into the room from outside.

She looked from the faces in that photo to him again. The hard, cold coating his eyes usually wore melted like ice under a blazing sun, revealing what it usually hid. Pain. Stark, intense pain.

Since he didn’t move, she did, stepping forward and dropping to her haunches. The photo was of a cool, elegant blonde and two little boys, one a toddler, one a little older. The boys could’ve been Romano’s miniatures, except that their deep blue eyes sparkled with mischief and joy, and their black hair was curlier than his. They were the same two kids she’d seen on his phone.

She looked up at him, tried to imagine him as a family man, a man with a pretty wife and adorable little boys, but it was hard to fit him into that scenario. It didn’t compute.

She reached for the photo, then jerked backward when he snatched it up before she could.

She caught his gaze again and saw an aching and vulnerable man battling demons only he could see. His shoulders bowed just slightly, his chin was angled lower, his jaw had softened.

Then he turned himself so he was facing away from her and put the photo into one of the duffel's side pockets.

“Who are they?”

He said nothing. Just dropped the bag onto the bed, and kept his face averted.

Something about his pain got to her. She could’ve predicted it. She was a nurturer, a healer. She liked taking care of people, probably because it made her feel needed. Prior to her career in medicine, no one had ever needed her. Well, except for Jax.

She missed that lazy cat. He was another reason she had to get away from this guy. To go rescue her cat.

Someday someone would truly need her, and she’d probably be theirs for life. Until then, she’d just have to live with her compulsion to heal and sympathize and comfort anyone who would let her.

She used to think she could fill her need to be needed by having children of her own. But that wasn’t in her future. She was infertile.

Her body moved on auto pilot. She walked closer to Romano and put a hand on his hard, broad shoulder, and she felt him tense up.

He took a deep, shuddery breath, lifted his chin, and walked into the bathroom without looking back. Lexi’s hand lingered in the air for a moment.

He didn’t bother to close the bathroom door behind him. But he turned toward her, every hint of human emotion once again hidden behind a granite facade. He unbuttoned his jeans.

“You might want to turn around. I’m gonna leave the door open, just in case you decide to try and run.”

He lowered the zipper, hooked his thumbs in the waistband. “Or you can watch. It’s all the same to me.”

She managed to convince herself to turn around while he was in the process of shoving his jeans down. “I’m a doctor, Romano. No point in trying to shock me with nudity.” Then she heard the water running.

Lexi chanced a quick glance over her shoulder and was rewarded with an unobstructed view of his wide back and dimpled butt cheeks. He stood in the shower curtain still open, water cascading over him, trickling down, beading up. Steam rose from his skin, and she couldn’t look away.

---