"No! Brant, stop." Pushing him away, she scrambled backwards on the cushion, chest heaving and body trembling.
"What-"
"I'm wet."
"Of course you are. That's no-" His eyes cleared as understanding of what she was trying to say hit him like a ton of bricks.
Leaping up from the sofa as if he was on fire, he stared at her in horror.
"Oh, good Christ!" he groaned. Closing his eyes briefly, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweats as reality hit him.
"Are you hurting?"
"No. It's just that-" She hated that she had to stop him when everything felt so wonderful. "I think I might have to take a shower."
"Oh. Oh!" Lifting a hand, he dragged his fingers through his hair. "I think I need to take one too." He turned to leave. "Do you need help?"
"No." She shook her head and prayed that she had not messed up the wonderful blue material of the sofa. "Go ahead. I'll use the shower in my room."
With a curt nod, he turned and walked out.
Tilting her head back, she closed her eyes and expelled a shaky breath. Springing off the sofa when she felt the trickle, she peered frantically at the spot she had just vacated and expelled a sigh of relief to see it unsullied. Hurrying from the room, she quickly made her way up the stairs and to her suite of rooms.
"What are you doing?" He came back half an hour later, during which he had to stand under the jet spray and take a much-needed and necessary cold shower.
"We never had breakfast. I made oatmeal."
"You should be resting. The medication should be taking effect now."
"I have to make some calls to suppliers and to the store." She placed a bowl in front of him and smiled at the frown on his forehead.
"Trust me, it's very good. I also made a fresh pot of coffee."
Ignoring that, he came around and turned her to face him, his hands on her shoulders.
"I meant what I said before. I want to try and make this work."
"So do I." Her eyes dropped to his lips, and he felt the familiar stirring of desire.
Shaking his head, he released her and stepped back. "I cannot take another cold shower," he told her dryly. "The water was so bloody cold, I had to stand in front of the hearth to thaw myself out." Sitting down, he bent a wry look on her when she started laughing. "It's not funny."
"No, it's not." She poured coffee for herself and sat across from him. "Are you sure about this? Us together."
He nodded, scooping up oatmeal and tasting it. "This is very good."
"I told you. It's my mother's recipe."
"I'm going to instruct Mrs. Holt to move your things into my suite."
His words fortified her and buoyed her spirit enough for her to tackle the mattress in the room she had been staying in. When he ordered her to leave it, she told him her pride would not bear the thought of someone else being a witness to her mess. She preferred to clean it herself. So armed with a spray bottle of bleach, she tackled the mattress first and scrubbed until only a faint spot was left. Next, she hauled the sheets down to the laundry room, thanking God that he had retired to his home office to deal with some work stuff.
Spraying stain remover on the spots, she dumped them into the washer and went to make herself a cup of tea. Her abdomen wasstill tender, but thankfully, the medication the doctor had given her seemed to be working.
By the time he was through with his work, she had succeeded in getting the blood stains out and left them in the dryer.
Chapter 10
"How about you take a break and try and get some sleep?" he suggested when he found her coming out of the laundry room.