Chapter 33

CHAPTER 33

A t the top of the stairs, Connor went past the first two rooms on the left, to the third room at the end of the hall and beyond the landing for the third floor. Zoe had to admit as much as she wanted to stand on her own two feet to prove she wasn't helpless, letting Connor carry her up the stairs was a way quicker trip than she suspected it would take her on her own.

Just inside the bedroom door, he flipped the light switch before setting her down and steadying her with his hands on her hips, her hands on his arms. "You okay to walk?" he asked staring down into her eyes.

Putting weight on her leg, she tested it. "I think I'm good."

Slowly, he lowered his hands, and she let go of his arms, taking a tentative step towards the bathroom beyond the fireplace on the opposite side of the room from the king-sized bed where they'd both crashed after the trip up from Virginia.

Holding onto the doorframe, she looked back at him. "I'd love to have a shower, but I can't take this boot off for a day or two, and it's not supposed to get wet."

"How about we cover it with a trash bag? I broke my arm once when I was a kid. My grandma covered it with a plastic bag and that was one of those plaster casts."

"That could work," she said. "Wonder where they keep those here?"

"You go on in and sit down. I'll see what I can find downstairs and get the bag of stuff we bought earlier today."

When they'd stopped to get food and supplies for Duke, they'd also picked up some sweat pants that would fit her, underwear, some sweaters and personal hygiene products—toothbrushes, toothpaste, shampoo, conditioner and deodorant—for both of them.

"That works for me. Thank you," she said with a smile.

He gave her a curt nod, did a one-eighty and headed back down the hall.

Determined to get used to walking on this busted leg and the boot, she took a deep breath and worked her way across the tiled floor several times before stopping at the toilet seat. The next thing was to wiggle out of the sweatpants before Connor got back, so he wouldn't have to wait for that before helping her cover the boot. She had to admit that the boot really did help with her pain. Which was a good thing, since she needed to be mobile once they were back in Washington. Markus had to be stopped. But he was her problem to solve, not Connor's.

Guilt snapped at her as she sat. He was in danger because he'd helped her.

"What's got you frowning?" he asked, coming into the bathroom.

"You should be safe at home, not putting your life in jeopardy. You've given enough to this country. I shouldn't have made you come with us."

"You didn't make me leave Davis Holler." He dropped the shopping bag he was holding in one hand on the counter, then dropped to his knees in front of her, laying a plastic trash bag and roll of duct tape on the floor beside him. "Coming with you was my own decision. You were right. This Loudon guy isn't going to stop until you're dead. The last place he knows you were was on that mountain. He sent one team of two, then one of six. I'd have to believe the next one was going to be at least twice that amount. No way I can take on that many by myself. So, coming with you made sense."

She leaned in and laid her hand on his bearded cheek. "You're sure? You've done so much for me. I don't want you getting hurt because of what I said."

"I'm sure this is what I need to do. The other reason I came is to keep you safe. I know you're used to taking care of yourself. You have to be to do all the dangerous things you've done before this. And I know you're tough. Who gets shot twice, dives out of a car, hurls down a mountain, and survives? But this time you're not one hundred percent. Yes, you've got a team now with all your family and friends. Think of me as your other half. I keep you safe and the rest of the team can focus on taking down the bad guys."

The concern in his eyes eased some of her guilt and fear—two emotions she kept buried deep.

"You good with that?" he asked.

She nodded. "I'm good."

Nodding, he retrieved the trash bag and tape. "Let's get this leg covered."

Reaching behind her left knee, he lifted her leg and slipped the bag over her boot-covered foot and lower leg, then rested it on his thigh. For a big man, he was remarkably gentle in how he handled her leg. She watched his hands gather the bag about two inches over the top of the pressure boot. They were big hands, strong hands. Warm hands that made her skin tingle wherever they touched her.

"Can you hold this while I tape it in place?" he asked, then looked up at her. "Zoe?"

"Oh, yes." She blinked and took over holding the bag, her fingers brushing his. Yep. Tingles. "Where did you find the duct tape?"

The corners of his lips lifted in that half smile he kept locked up tighter than gold in Fort Knox. "Figured an old house, even a remodeled one like this one, might have some old plumbing with issues. Found this under the sink."

"Smart man."

"Sometimes." He finished taping the top completely closed, their fingers brushing once more. "I think that should do the job. Need any more help?"

You could get naked and shower with me. "Could you just get me that plaid shirt of yours I wore to sleep in?"

"Okay." He stood and held out his hand to help her up. "Be careful moving around on this tile with that slick bag on your foot."

"I will."

As soon as he was out the door, she made her way to the shower, turned it on so the water would be somewhere between very warm and just under scalding, closing the door to be sure the hot water would steam up the glass. Then started stripping off her clothes, tossing them onto the side of the bathtub next to the shower.

"Found it," Connor's deep voice said. "Where…uhm…do you want me to put it?"

"Just on the back of the door. Thanks," she said stepping into the steaming shower and closing the door tightly.

?

Connor stepped into the bathroom, expecting to find Zoe already in the shower. Instead he was greeted by her completely naked back. In all his fantasies, he'd never thought a woman's backside could be as sexy as the front, but seeing Zoe like this changed his mind.

Her dark hair hung loosely around her strong shoulders. Her hourglass shape from her torso to her narrow waist and outwards over the curves of her hips, followed by the twin globes of her bottom that made his hands want to cup and knead them. The delicate line of her spine tempted him to run his finger or tongue down it to the little cleft between her buttocks. The only things marring all that creamy enticing skin was the new gunshot wound to her left shoulder, and the old, puckered scar on her right ass cheek. Emblems of the strength caged inside that delicate body.

And on her leg was the boot that spoke of her vulnerability. The last thing he needed to be thinking about was how much he wanted to have sex with her.

Cursing his lusting thoughts back into a hole deep inside, he cleared his throat and said, "Found it. Where…uhm…do you want me to put it." As soon as the words were out of his mouth he regretted them. Please don't let her realize the implied sexual suggestion behind them.

"Just hang it on the back of the door. Thanks."

He caught the gentle swell of her breasts as she stepped into the shower, then closed the door where all the steam inside blurred her image. Before he could change his mind and do something really stupid, like strip naked and join her in all that wet heat, he hung his shirt on the hook and left the bathroom.

Inside the bedroom, he dropped to the floor and did twenty pushups. Paused. Did twenty more.

It had been more than a decade since he'd wanted a woman so bad his body ached, even then it wasn't as bad as this. The discipline of the Army taught him how to maintain control of his body through work. In prison, he learned to take the edge off the rare sexual urges by doing some physical activity. It also cut off his thoughts from something he couldn't have, like the beautiful woman in the other room.

Still needing to put his brain back in control of his body, he pushed up from the floor and headed to the only empty bedroom. He stripped as if his clothes were on fire, turned on the cold-water jets and stepped inside. The water hit him like ice sickles. Leaning one arm on the wall beneath the jets, he closed his eyes remembering every inch of Zoe's naked body, took his dick in his hand, and worked it until he orgasmed, his body sagging against the tiles. Only then did he add some hot water to the mix and grab the soap to clean up the mess.

If Zoe weren't injured, vulnerable, he'd gladly indulge in sating his needs and desires with her. But he wouldn't take advantage of her no matter what. Wouldn't disrespect her like that to ease his own needs. Once he was clean and the desire for her barely a hum beneath the surface, he pulled on clean underwear and his jeans, before going to check on her. He'd get her tucked in bed, then come back here for the night. He wasn't sure he trusted himself to be in a bed with her, no matter that it was twice the size as the one they'd shared back at the cabin.

As he walked down the hallway, he heard a cry come from Zoe's bedroom.