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Cath wrapped herself in a dry towel, made sure strategic spots were covered, and opened the bathroom door. Across the hotel room, Mitch set a cup on his nightstand and sat back, bare shoulders braced against the pillows. The covers came to his waist. He looked even sexier than if he were stretched out on a white sheepskin rug, but she didn’t need to get excited. She’d seen his chest before. When they’d stood in the hallway with his brother Hal. His brother had been giving off hate vibes, ruining any chance she might have had to think about bare male chests at the time. Tonight she had no buffer.
She dropped two fresh towels on the bed at his feet. “The bathroom’s all yours.”
“I’ll take a shower in the morning.” He clasped his hands in his lap.
“I didn’t mean to bark at you,” he said, his deep voice rumbling.
She tightened the knot in her towel. “Don’t worry. I have pretty tough skin.”
“Being in the army, you hear people yelling at you, and you yell back. I should have appealed to you as a teammate.”
“It’s my fault. I provoked you.”
A thunderstorm drifted across his brow. “Why did you?”
“I don’t know.” Except she did. That wild kiss in front of the dark courtyard had broken through her defenses and torn down her walls. But how did Mitch feel about that kiss? Good? Not so good? She waved a hand. “It could be another sign I’m losing my mind.”
Dark eyebrows lifted. “Was there another one?”
“I dragged you to the wharf.” She took in the clothes—both his and hers—spread on the floor and perched on the overstuffed Victorian chair. Heat blowing down from the ceiling duct raised goose bumps on her shoulders and arms, but she dared not rub them for fear she’d lose her towel. “You’d think with all this fancy furniture this place could provide robes.”
“There’s no swimming pool.”
Huh? She shrugged. “I can’t tell you how disappointed I am.”
He sat back as if surprised. “Hotels with pools have robes in case a guest wants to wear one back and forth. Or if they have multiroom suites.”
He spoke as if from experience. “You ever stayed in a multiroom suite?”
“No, seen them in movies.” He waved her over to the bed. “You took a shower to warm up. Don’t sit there getting cold again. Come to bed.”
“You’re in it.”
“I left you a side.” He peeled back the covers to reveal a rolled blanket stretched down the middle. “You’re not going to get any sleep sitting there.”
“Look the other way.” She pushed onto the four-poster mattress and pulled the covers to her chin. “I’m in.”
He swung his legs free and stood. A towel wrapped his waist, but she caught a flash of thigh. Extreme upper thigh. “You want coffee or tea?”
She wrenched her gaze from the snake tattoo on his shoulder to the paper cup in his hand. “What are you drinking?”
“Hot water.”
“Quite the teetotaler, aren’t you?”
“It’s best under the circumstances.”
“What circumstances?” She rubbed her face. Get a grip. He was talking about sharing a bed with her.
“Let’s just say I could use some shut-eye.”
Okay, he planned to keep his distance. “I need some sleep too.” If her nerves would stop quivering. His every movement, his every word made her whole body sit up and pay attention. Like she’d been sleepwalking her whole life. “I’ll take decaf if you have some.”
Steaming water billowed up around him, and Mitch carried her cup around the bed, his terry breechcloth shifting in a suggestive way.
She had to get her mind out of the gutter. “Where’d you get the water?”
