Under the Surface. Kira Sinclair
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After yanking off his own wet clothes, he donned dry ones and pulled out an old T-shirt and gym shorts for her.
He wanted to escape above deck before he did something stupid. Such as tear the bathroom door off its hinges so he could help her rinse away the suds. He even started to leave, but he couldn’t make himself go. Not until he knew she was actually okay.
So instead he began to prowl the small space, an uncomfortable sensation tingling at the back of his neck. The longer Loralei stayed in that room, the worse it became. He started worrying, remembering how she’d looked lying on the dock, eerily still and lifeless.
Break in the door or wait?
He’d never been one for indecision, but tonight he couldn’t make up his mind.
Which only frustrated him more.
LORALEI WRAPPED HER arms around her body and held on tight. Despite the warm water rushing over her, she shivered.
Closing her eyes, she let her head drop against the fiberglass wall in front of her. Then she just stood there with a jumble of thoughts and pictures running in an endless loop through her brain. She’d almost died. Drowned. The helpless sensation she’d felt as she’d looked up through the water and realized she couldn’t do anything to save herself... It had sucked.
What was wrong with her? She was an adult. She shouldn’t be ruled by her fear like a child afraid of the dark.
It sucked even worse that Jackson Duchane had been the one to rescue her.
God, her lips still tingled where he’d pressed his mouth to hers and breathed life back into her lungs. Every nerve ending in her body was alive from the sensation of being carried by him. That chest. Those shoulders. She’d gotten a front-and-center introduction to the hard body hidden beneath his clothes.
And she wanted more.
Seriously, what was wrong with her?
Realizing the trembling had finally stopped, Loralei quickly picked up the single bottle sitting on the shelf and dumped a huge dollop of shampoo into her hand. A clean, crisp scent melted into the small space around her. Without thinking, she pulled in a deep breath. She already associated the salt and sandalwood combination with the man who’d saved her life.
Part of her wanted to curl into a ball in the corner of his shower, give in to the black pit of fear that was threatening at the edges of her consciousness. But she refused to succumb to the temptation.
Rinsing the residue of saltwater from her skin, she finally stepped from the comfort of the steam-filled space. She grabbed a towel and swiped it across her dripping hair several times before wrapping it around her body.
Glancing around, she realized she had nothing to put on.
Great.
It wasn’t bad enough that she had to face him, now she was going to have to do it wearing nothing but a scrap of terrycloth that barely covered her from chest to hip.
After sucking in a deep, calming breath, Loralei straightened her shoulders and reached for the door handle.
One step into the attached bedroom her bravado failed her and she froze.
Jackson was stalking around the small space. Tension radiated off his tight body. His hands were threaded together at the base of his neck, his back and shoulder muscles rippled against a T-shirt that looked well-worn and soft enough to wrap a newborn baby in.
Jesus. No man should look like that. Loralei’s heart slammed into her throat before dropping to her toes. Her stomach rolled, not from fear or the rocking ship, but from a burst of lust that nearly knocked her on her ass.
And that was before he turned around and raked her with those summer-blue eyes. Oh, shit. The intensity in his gaze had her swaying on her feet. Her body tingled, jumped to life. Beneath the thin layer of cotton, her nipples tightened into aching points, reminding her just how naked and vulnerable she was.
Before she could attempt to get a grip on her runaway libido, he was standing beside her. How had he moved so quickly?
The heat of his huge hand settled on her arm, steadying her.
“Easy,” he murmured. His voice, deep and rough, scraped across her senses.
“I was about to bust in there. You were taking a long time.”
Loralei stared up at him, surprised to see genuine concern swirling together with guilt. And lust. Dammit, that wasn’t helping her runaway hormones. Especially when the vision of him slipping into that tiny shower with her ghosted across her thoughts.
Shaking away temptation, Loralei licked her lips and said, “I’m fine.”
Was that really her voice? All scratchy and fragile?
His gorgeous mouth pulled down at the edges in a frown. Why did she suddenly have the urge to reach out and run the pad of her finger across his lips? Would they be as hard as the rest of him, or soft and yielding?
“Why don’t I believe you?”
“Seriously.” She had to get a grip...on something other than him. Stepping away, Loralei watched his hand drop to his side. Already, she missed the comforting warmth that had spread through her from where he’d touched. “Hand me some clothes so I can head back to my hotel room.”
Jackson twisted and grabbed a pile from the small table beside the bed. Instead of holding them out to her, he pressed them against his chest and folded his arms over them. The veins running along his biceps pulsed.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
His words were the catalyst she needed to drag her gaze back to his stony expression.
“Of course I am. I need to get back to my crew.”
“What you need to do is rest.”
“Exactly. And the sooner you give me those the sooner I can get out of your hair.” Loralei held out her hand hoping he’d plop the clothes against her palm. He didn’t, but she kept her arm out anyway.
His expression turned harsh, those amazing eyes going as sharp as cut glass. She could see the argument coming and felt her own body respond, adrenaline surging into her already spinning system.
But before she could say anything, his entire body changed. All the tension bled out of him. His mouth softened. Tiny lines crinkled the edges of his eyes, which had melted into pools of heat.
Tossing the clothes back onto the bed behind him, he took a single step forward and filled her personal space. But he didn’t touch her. Was it wrong that she wished he had?
Instead, he laced his fingers behind his neck again.
“Loralei, you nearly drowned.”
Just those few simple words had the ghost of her panic welling inside her again.