Page 23 of Harbor (The Wanderers 3)

She watched him exit. He was built. He was also six feet tall. Keanu was a few inches taller, but not as broad. Advic was a few inches shorter but still taller than Maya.

Why was she comparing them? Fuck.

She was shaking, and not from exertion. This time she was trembling from her reaction to Dario. The man wasn’t just in charge of this clinic and obviously the oldest of the three, he was a more dominant personality.

Dario’s smile lit up a room, but his no-holds-barred, furrowed brow could stop people in their tracks. She had no doubt he would read her the riot act if she dared try to stand.

She wouldn’t because at the moment she didn’t have a death wish. She’d certainly had days when she’d wished for death over the alternative, one of which had occurred a week ago, but not today. This was a minor setback. Her leg was going to heal. She would walk and run and climb again because she wouldn’t accept anything less than a full recovery.

After finishing her business, she took a deep breath and considered defying Dario, mostly just to get a rise out of him. She eyed the tub, wanting a bath more than anything. Her long blond hair was tumbling all around her, unbound after Advic washed it and combed it out. It had dried in long ringlets.

Normally, she never wore her hair down. It got in the way. The only reason she kept it this long was because it was easier to braid it out of her face than try to manage shorter hair.

“Maya…” Dario dragged her name out in a warning tone.

“Yeah. I’m done.”

He opened the door and stepped back inside.

She pointed at the tub. “May I?”

He set his hands on his hips. “Advic warned me you would try to talk me into letting you soak in the tub.”

She lifted a brow, detesting her reliance on these men. “Did the three of you have a meeting to decide if I’d be permitted to bathe?”

He chuckled. “You wish.”

That response was unexpected.

He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall several inches from her. Also unexpected.

Her arms were trembling, and by now so were her legs, infuriating her.

“The huddle we had was to draw straws to decide who would get the pleasure of helping you bathe.” He smirked.

She froze. That was unexpected. Not so much that they’d had that discussion, nor that they’d thought about helping her, but that Dario had verbalized it. The man was full of surprises today. “Who won?”

He laughed. “Doesn’t matter. I’m the one here now.”

“Maybe you could just fill the tub, help me get closer to it, and leave me to manage.” She didn’t word that as a question.

“Maybe you could stop trying to assert your independence and accept help when you need it.”

Her gaze roamed up and down his frame, soaking him in more than she’d previously been able to. He was more muscular than she’d originally assessed. His biceps were bulging. His white T-shirt was almost too tight, stretched across his pecs. He wasn’t dressed like a doctor today. He had on jeans that hugged his package well enough she could easily tell he was hard.

“You done?” he asked when her gaze wandered back up to his face.

“This entire scenario is unfair,” she pointed out.

“How so?”

“You’ve all undoubtedly seen me completely naked for one.”

He frowned. “Trust me, sweetheart, none of us has ever been less than professional when it came to you, especially while you were unconscious. We aren’t into somnophilia.”

“What the hell is somnophilia?”

“The desire to have sex with unconscious people.”

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