Page 55 of Her Wicked Hero

“Marcia, don’t yank my chain.”

She rubbed her hands together in glee.

“Surprise me,” she called out. Then she grabbed the towel, so she could climb out of the tub. Marcia took her time getting ready. It wasn’t quite time for the red bra and panty set, or was it? Oh, what the hell, wasn’t the SEAL team motto to be prepared? She rifled through the blue suitcase and tried to decide between the sundress or the shorts and camisole.

Make up your damn mind, Price.

She went with the shorts and camisole. She knew the red of the bra strap would show.

Bad Marcia.

She ran back down the hall and into the bathroom, so she could look in the mirror.

There wasn’t a damn thing she could do about her hair. She desperately needed a cut to layer all her curls, but when had she had time to do that? Hopefully, he liked the Wild Child Scraped Face look.

She bent over the sink and touched the scabs.

Ah heck, what was she thinking? Zed made her toes curl. She was a six on a good day, and this sure as heck wasn’t a good day. Rick had been a six.

Zed was what, six-foot-five? That automatically made him a six didn’t it? Then with those eyes, and that smile? Yeah, he was a ten.

Marcia sat down on the toilet seat. She couldn’t do this.

Zed had heard Marcia running down the hallway. He’d figured she was on her way to dinner, but then…nothing. Time for reconnaissance. The bathroom door was ajar. He could still smell the eucalyptus, cinnamon, and jasmine in the air.

He knocked on the doorjamb. “Marcia?”

“Present,” she sounded sad. Her voice was usually lit with music.

“Can I come in?”

“It’s your bathroom.” Dejected. She sounded dejected.

What was his problem? There she was, slouched over, obviously upset about something, and he immediately notices her red bra strap.

Then she caught him, their eyes held. He pointed at the red lace.

“Is that for me?”

She blushed. “Maybe.”

“It goes with the wine I chose.”

“Guess there was a hundred percent chance of that, huh?”

He crouched down in front of her and pushed her hair behind her ear. It coaxed her to look him in the eye.

“Wanna tell me what’s going on?”

“Not really.”

“Want me to guess?” He watched as she truly considered his question.

“I don’t like playing those types of games. They’re a waste of time. Let’s just say I’m having a bit of a pity party and leave it at that, shall we?”

He considered her words. Damn, she was a breath of fresh air. She just spoke her mind, and if she needed a timeout, she wasn’t afraid to say so. He loved it. And he was damn close to falling in love with her.

“If I were to say that along with the wine and a medium steak, there was a baked potato with butter, sour cream, chives, cheese, and bacon would that help you out of your funk?” She sat up straighter.