“Bathroom,” she whispered without looking at him.
Well, at least she was steadier on her feet now. Noah sat up, frowning when the shower started.
She was too weak and dizzy. She could fall, hit her head. Anything might happen. Bathrooms were dangerous places. There was also the cast on her hand to consider. He didn’t know if she was supposed to get it wet or not but it would definitely hamper her in the bathtub.
Noah suspected it wouldn’t do him much good to point out either of those facts to her. Sydney Edwards—Inglewood, he tacked on sternly—definitely had a mind of her own.
Running a hand through his hair, he decided it would be much better for both of them if he didn’t dwell on the image of her standing on the other side of that flimsy door taking a shower.
“I needed a nap more than she did,” he muttered to himself as he reached for the telephone to call room service.
Sydney stepped from the steamy bathroom a few minutes later, a towel wrapped loosely around her head. She’d donned his T-shirt again, but the shorts had obviously proved too much for her. She gripped the drooping shorts firmly around her waist. He wished she looked ridiculous—instead of sexy as hell.
“Quite a fashion statement,” he told her with what he hoped was an easy smile.
She looked down at the shirt where it clung a bit damply to the tops of her breasts and made a face. “I couldn’t retie the drawstring with only one hand.” Her embarrassment was tempered by annoyance.
Noah forced his eyes up and away, disturbed by his instant reaction. “I should have thought of that. I’ll help you.”
He could be detached. Of course he could.
“Come here.”
Sydney hesitated.
Remembering her earlier comment about the way he gave orders he added, “Please.”
Her expression lightened in a sudden burst of humor. “I’ll bet that didn’t hurt a bit.”
“What didn’t?”
“Saying please.”
“Anybody ever tell you that you have a sassy mouth?”
She grinned. “No one dares. Have you been in the military a long time?”
She was stalling. He didn’t mind the delaying tactics a bit. Touching her so intimately was going to be uncomfortable for both of them, especially since he knew she wasn’t wearing a thing under those bits of cloth.
“I got a military scholarship in high school.”
“ROTC?”
He nodded and perched on the edge of the bed so he could reach for the string.
“You know, we could call the front desk,” she said suddenly, backing up. “They might have a gift shop. Maybe I could have them send up a dress or something.”
He could just envision trying to help her into a dress. “I don’t think so, but picking up your clothing will be our first priority.” His sanity might depend on it. “Come here.”
With an air of resignation, she approached. “I feel like a little kid,” she said with endearing nervousness.
“Trust me, you don’t look anything at all like a kid.” And that was a pity. He wouldn’t have thought twice about helping a kid.
He’d never felt such intense physical awareness of a woman before. He had to keep telling himself she was his brother’s wife. Surely he could do this without embarrassing both of them.
But sitting on the bed had been a mistake. It put him just above eye level of the rounded curves his T-shirt strove to conceal. Her nipples contracted into tiny hard points. Noah tried not to stare and reminded himself once more that this was his sister-in-law, not some woman he was trying to take to bed.
“Sorry,” she said. “I feel foolish.”
He knew the feeling.
“Is this the spot where I’m supposed to close my eyes and think of God and country?”
She surprised a chuckle out of him. He liked the way she turned to humor in difficult situations. “I thought it was queen and country.”
“Only if you’re British.”
“Ah. Well, c’mere darlin’,” he said with a drawl.
Her expression flashed with mild alarm that immediately turned to an answering grin. “Go for it, Tex.”
She released her one-hand death grip on the scrunched-up shirt and lost her hold on the jogging shorts underneath. They slid dangerously down her slim hips.
“Oops!”
Noah stopped their descent at her hips, which placed his face only inches from her navel beneath the thin bit of cotton. He inhaled the pleasant scent of the soap she’d used all over her body.
This had been a very bad idea.
“Here,” he said a bit gruffly. “You hold the shorts. I’ll get the drawstring.”
Their hands connected. Noah drew in a sharp breath and reminded himself once more that this was his sister-in-law. Calling on every bit of discipline he’d ever known, he tugged up the hem of the T-shirt and reached for her waistband.
“I think I’d better tell you that I’m ticklish.”
Noah stopped, his fingers barely touching her smooth marble skin. “Ticklish?”
“Very ticklish. And I always get even.”
“Then it’s a good thing I’m not ticklish.”
“There are better ways of getting even.”
“I think I like the sound of that.” He slid a finger beneath the edge of the waistband searching for the drawstring. He tried not to acknowledge the silky feel of her skin as he brushed against the indentation that was her belly button. Her tummy contracted in instant reaction to his touch. His groin tightened in answer.
“Noah…”
“Don’t move. Don’t even breathe,” he warned.
He tugged the drawstring loose, tied it and sat back, breathing as though he’d just run a marathon.
Sydney jumped back like a scalded cat. The towel on her head tilted to one side and she pulled it free.
“Well. Now. That wasn’t so bad.”
“Speak for yourself,” he muttered under his breath.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.”
He stood and walked to his duffel
