Chapter 27

Nicki closed the door of her bedroom and darted across the room, kicking off her shoes as she went. Two water bottles sat on the dresser, and she grabbed one and tilted it into her mouth. She was being silly. She was drinking enough, she knew she was. Her nerves were on overdrive, was all. She simply needed to relax and stay hydrated.

A short knock sounded at the door. She froze.

"Nicki?" Stefan's voice was cultured and aristocratic, and currently overlaid with a distinct tone of concern. And she didn't want him concerned—not about her. Not when they were so close to doing something so cool.

"Yes! Yes, hang on." She moved quickly over to the doorway. Today's walk in the woods had been exactly as she'd imagined working with Stefan would be. They were partners, equals, since there weren't any sophisticates standing around and no one was firing guns. She knew how to hike, and how to read terrain. She knew how to climb, too. He might be a demigod, but she didn't suck.

The fall into the water had jarred her ankles, but it hadn't hurt her. Not really. It simply had jammed the leg she'd broken in the damned bike accident four years back, and she'd had visions of traction in her head violent enough to make her dizzy. Once the dizziness had started, all the usual freak-out followed—Was she having an incident? Would she be okay? Was this a heart attack of any sort? And of course that kind of thinking invariably kicked up her heart rate. A vicious stupid cycle that she knew better than to?—

She opened the door.

"Hi!" she said brightly. "Sorry, I was getting ready to take a shower."

Stefan's expression was solemn. "One of the finest features of this hotel is its suite's primary bathrooms. They're four times larger than typical Turkish hotel suites, did you know that?"

Nicki blinked. "I—I didn't know that," she said, taking a step back though she hadn't expected, hadn't planned for him to follow her into her hotel room. But she could definitely roll with it. "I'm not sure my hotel room is as well-equipped as yours is, though. Maybe you should double-check."

Stefan took another step forward, shutting the door behind him. "I think that's an excellent idea," he said. "You can never be too careful with quality control."

"I've heard that."

He lifted his hand, smoothly pulling off his shirt, and she marveled once again at the perfection of his abs and pecs. He wasn't muscle-bound from a gym, and he wasn't corded the way athletes were, but he was somewhere deliciously in between.

He kicked off his shoes, then reached for his pants. "Showers are usually improved if you take off your clothes," he said. "You might want to catch up."

"I—" Nicki reached for her shirt, but she stopped when he undid the clasp of his trousers, allowing them to fall to the ground. They didn't get stuck on his smooth hips or muscled thighs, but fell in an expensive whoosh. He stepped out of them, and padded toward her, working out of his boxer briefs as well.

"Now you're really behind," he said. "Maybe I should help you out."

Nicki couldn't move if she tried. Stefan stepped closer and pulled her shirt up over her head, then hooked his fingers underneath her sports bra. "How can you breathe in this thing?" he muttered. Nicki laughed and kept her arms raised, but as he lifted the bra to her biceps, trapping her arms, he left it there.

Instead, he leaned forward and nuzzled her breasts with his face, holding her close when she would have flinched away. "I really need a shower, Stefan?—"

"We're getting there." Leaving her to finish pulling off her bra, he sank to his knees, trailing his hands down her now-quivering abs. He flipped the tab loose on her pants and pulled them down along with her underwear, but when he would have leaned in for a kiss she stepped back.

"Race you," she said, kicking off her pants and heading for the bathroom. Stefan gave her a head start, but there was only so much space in a hotel room, even one on the celebrated coast of Ala?ati. Nicki squealed as he caught her one step shy of the shower, and he reached over her head, turning the spigots on full blast.

"You should never try to race me to water," he warned. "I will always win."

He crowded her into the shower as it heated up and she clung to him while he adjusted the temperature to something shy of boiling. The water pounded onto her back as his arms went around her, and she groaned at the competing sensations of man and hot water, surrounding her in a cocoon of comfort.

"Better?" he murmured, angling her head under the water enough to drench her hair.

"So much better," she said. And it was. Her dizziness was gone, her heart rate was steady, and she felt rejuvenated despite the fact that she wasn't precisely clean yet. Stefan laughed and turned into the stream of water as well, soaking himself as she reached for the shampoo—which he took out of her hands.

"Let me?" He asked the question as if she might say no, and she coughed a laugh.

"A hot naked demigod wants to wash my hair, you think I'm going to say no to that?"

"Any hot naked demigod?"

"Anyone I allow into my shower. And believe me, you…qualify." She let her words trail off as Stefan massaged thick, luxurious shampoo into her hair, his fingers massaging her scalp then down her neck and over her shoulders.

"You're hired," she moaned. "For whatever cost you want. Please don't stop doing that."

His laughter rumbled behind her, and he slicked the soap through her hair—and his own, she vaguely realized. That done, he turned her in his arms and pulled her to him, the water cascading around them in a warm, sensuous haze.

"Better yet?" he asked.

"Infinitely, impossibly better yet." Nicki was plastered against Stefan's chest, the tilt of his shoulders protecting her from a direct hit of the blasting water, and his heat expanded around her, making everything safe. She sighed, and to her own ears it sounded a bit more intense than she intended.

Stefan apparently agreed. He shifted to look down at her, but she kept her head tucked against him a moment longer, until his hand touched her chin, lifting it up.

"You were injured in that ditch," he said. "But you walked steadily after, no limp."

Nicki nodded. Her heart didn't skip a beat, though, and her adrenaline didn't fire up. Something about the lulling patter of the shower and the feel of Stefan's arms around her made his questions concerned, but not intrusive, not dangerous. She knew what she needed to say to soothe his worries. To soothe her own. And she said it.

"I thought I tweaked my old leg injury. The biking one. That one had been super painful to come back from, and every time I stick a landing I react all out of proportion to the actual impact. It's ridiculous. I know it's ridiculous, but I can't help myself." She grimaced, knowing the words sounded accurate—because they were true. She was also being ridiculous about her possibly-maybe-never manifesting heart condition.

But that she couldn't share with him. Not yet.

"And did you disturb the leg?" he asked. "Is it weaker?"

She shook her head, feeling safe enough to meet his gaze. "Not that I can tell. It may hurt tomorrow, but not much."

He frowned. "You shouldn't participate in the expo today."

"Oh, that's not going to be a problem," Nicki said. "It's on water, and I won't be going at the speed of say, water skiing. Windsurfing can get dangerous, sure, but not here. The water is shallow and the winds aren't crazy."

"Would you know you were overdoing it before you actually injured yourself?"

She considered that. It was a good question, both for her heart and her leg. "I would," she said honestly. "I'd feel the pain start up—if for some reason the wind is unusually bad or the currents tricky or whatever, I'd know I was heading into danger."

He appeared to accept her response and dropped a kiss on her forehead. The movement was so gentle that something quivered in Nicki's chest. Something good this time.

Stefan reached out to the wall, turning off the faucets. "I think we should be doubly sure," he murmured.