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“Where does it hurt the most?” His voice was neutral, unemotional but his gaze remained pinned to hers, following her eyes when she tried to evade that uncomfortable, probing molten silver stare.
“My back,” she admitted with a shuddering sigh, her eyes burning as she fought to hold back her tears.
“Right. Okay.” He dropped his hands on the sofa on either side of her hips and seemed to think for a moment before he nodded decisively. Just a fast, jerky up-down motion of his head.
“Do you have anything that can double as a swimsuit?”
“What?” His question baffled her and she stared at him like he’d grown an extra head. Was he crazy? A swimsuit? Why would she need a swimsuit? The rain had stopped during the night, but it was still gray and cold and windy out there.
“Humor me, okay?”
“I do have something,” she conceded reluctantly, thinking of the ridiculous bikini she’d packed. “Why?”
“There’s a hot tub in the natatorium.”
“The natatorium?”
“A room containing an indoor swimming pool.”
She glared at him, offended that he’d felt the need to explain.
“I know what a natatorium is, I was just surprised to learn that you had one.”
“Why? You see what it’s like in winter. And it’s great to be able get a few laps in every day, regardless of the weather. I think an indoor swimming pool is essential in a place like this.”
“Hmm… Your idea of essential and mine differ greatly.” She knew she sounded tart and judgy, but seriously, an indoor pool? Nobody truly needed an indoor pool. Still, that hot tub he’d mentioned sounded like paradise round about now, so maybe she should get off her high horse and just be grateful he had a frikking natatorium tucked away in his holiday hideaway.
He didn’t respond to her comment, merely continued to stare at her and they both simultaneously became aware of the fact that one of his long thumbs was absently stroking her thigh through the stretchy fabric of her sweatpants. Her mouth dropped open and his eyes widened as he jerked his hand away as if he’d been scalded.
Meanwhile, Iris felt as if she had been scalded. She could still feel the firm stroke of that thumb against her flesh, the heat from his hand seared into her skin like a brand.
He leaped to his feet and shoved his hands into his sweatpants pockets, lowering his head to glare down at her.
“Eat your breakfast and then get changed. I’ll return for you in half an hour.”
He was as good as his word. Back in exactly thirty minutes, while Iris sat waiting—after having painfully struggled into the bright pink and white string bikini in record-breaking time—on the sofa. She felt outrageously exposed, despite the warm, thick bathrobe she wore over the scandalously tiny bikini.
She was just thinking that maybe a pair of boy shorts and a black bra would be a little more conservative when he stepped back into the room.
“You ready?” he asked, eyeing her modestly covered, huddled form skeptically. She nodded wordlessly, feeling tongue-tied, nervous, and ridiculous.
A slight movement behind him—in the open door—caught her eye, and her face lit up at the sight of Luna.
“Luna, I’m so happy to see you!” The dog ambled over to her and stoically accepted Iris’s enthusiastic hug.
Shockingly, Trystan allowed the interaction without calling Luna away. He remained standing by the door, waiting with every appearance of patience.
Because of that seeming patience, Iris didn’t feel the perverse need to make him wait any longer and shakily pushed to her feet. To her surprise he moved toward her, covering the distance in a few short strides, until he was hovering right beside her, hands slightly outstretched as if to catch her if she fell.
She eyed those big, capable hands in horror and amusement, not at all sure what his intentions were right now.
“Do you need help?” The tight awkwardness in his voice told her that he wasn’t certain of his next move either.
“I think I’m okay to walk,” she said, taking one wobbly step before he made an impatient grunting sound and closed his hand around her elbow in support.
This time she didn’t even bother calling him out on the grabbiness because she was actually grateful for the aid. And truthfully, she didn’t really mind it, not even when she’d mentioned it to him before. She’d just felt the need to establish boundaries even though she hadn’t felt truly threatened by his bossy touch.
She allowed him to steer her toward the door, even though she hardly needed direction out of the room. Her phone beeped as they slowly made their way to the door and she pulled it out of her pocket with her free hand to check the incoming message.
