Remi hadn’t realized how cold she was until Greer covered her. Her eyes were heavy, lulled by the steady, strong beat of his heart. She worried she was too heavy, but he locked his arms around her and stared straight ahead as if he were barely aware of her on his lap. She closed her eyes and breathed in his soothing scent.
How could she feel so safe in his arms? She’d sworn off any serious relationships her entire teen and adult life. She’d picked lovers for short and intense interludes, always with the clear understanding that it would never be more than a weekend with any of them. If they’d called her afterward, wanting more, she shut them down. Greer made her feel as if more might actually be possible—perhaps because he was a warrior, not a benign professional.
And that scared the hell out of her. Assassins likely didn’t live long enough to keep their promises.
*
“Doc, we’re here.” Greer’s voice slipped quietly into her mind, waking her. The door closed as Angel got out of the SUV.
Remi pushed against Greer’s chest, sitting up. She couldn’t believe it, but she’d actually slept for most of the ride home. Home. She pulled the throw off her lap and ducked out of the SUV. Greer followed her, carrying her purse and laptop bag. The guys were already hauling her boxes into Blade’s home.
Staring up at the big timber house, she thought the déjà vu she was feeling was stuck on repeat. Only now she really had nowhere else to go.
“Where are they taking my boxes?” she asked when they went inside.
“To our conference room.”
Remi sent a glance around the sprawling mansion, wondering where that was and if she’d ever get her research back. The guys were carrying boxes down the hall to the right, but she thought there were only bedrooms in that direction. Greer led her up the stairs.
“Everyone’s going to crash for a few hours. We should do the same,” he said as they paused outside her bedroom. He was speaking quietly because the rest of the household was asleep.
She didn’t go into her room, didn’t move at all. She wanted him to stay with her. She wished she could put her life in reverse and get off at a different stop.
He must have read the confusion in her face. “C’mon.” He put his hand on her back and directed her into her room. After shutting the door behind them, he set her things on the floor beside her desk, then took her hand and led her into the bathroom.
He stripped, then turned the shower on and focused on helping her peel off her clothes. There was no lust in his eyes, only concern. Her clothes were pooled on the floor in no time. He tested the water, then stepped into the shower stream and drew her in with him.
Remi closed her eyes and let the hot water soothe her. She didn’t resist when Greer poured shampoo into his hands and lathered her hair. He shifted in the shower stall so that he could rinse her hair. When the shampoo was gone, she filled her palm with conditioner—it wasn’t a process she gave any thought to. It was just the next thing to do.
She could live like this, in automaton mode. She could exist. Numb was nice. Numb didn’t hurt. Numb didn’t fear. Numb didn’t bleed.
Greer leaned back to look into her face. He must not have liked what he saw, for he scooped the conditioner from her hand and smoothed it over her hair.
His knuckles looked bruised. There was a dark line of blood stuck beneath his short nails from the fight at her apartment. The shower hadn’t yet washed it away. She took up the bar of soap and ran it directly over his hands, digging his nails into it.
The soap scent smelled foreign on him. She wanted his cinnamon scent back. She lifted the ball of aqua netting and attacked the stains on his hands, scrubbing and scrubbing.
Greer watched Remi. She looked wrecked. Exhausted. Lost. She was scrubbing at phantom dirt on his hands. No, that wasn’t true. He knew she was trying to get the blood off his hands. He held still, though it had begun to hurt. He could tell she was weeping, even though her face was in the stream of water.
“Baby, don’t cry. Please, don’t cry.”
She paused her fevered motions, and slowly lifted her face to look at him.
“You’ll never wash me clean. You can’t. The blood isn’t on my skin. It’s in my soul.”
And there it was. The truth. The thing his fiancée had run from so long ago. The thing his parents and sisters condemned him for.
His soul was stained. And he didn’t care. Someone had to protect the good from the bad.
She turned his hand over in her palm and looked at his skin. He braced himself for her to turn from him. It had to come. Light like hers couldn’t exist in his darkness.
She lifted his hand to her mouth. Dropping the scrubby, she held his hand against her face and cried.
Oh. Fuck. This hurt. He loved her. He fucking loved her. A love so deep and bright, he realized he’d never loved like that before.
“Greer.” Her voice broke. She leaned her head into his chest.
He pushed free of her and got out of the shower. “I’ll go.”
She followed him out without turning off the shower. “Why? Why are you going?”
“I’m tainted, Remi. You know that. You’ve seen that.”
“I am, too, Greer.”
He lifted his head and frowned at her. “No, you’re not.”
“Don’t leave me.” Her eyes welled with tears. “I’m tired of standing alone.”
He stepped back into her body space. Catching her chin, he lifted her face to his and kissed her. He reached over and shut off the shower, then wrapped a towel around her, and carried her to her bed.
He went back into the bathroom and found the drawer with the carton of condoms he’d put there for their use. He covered himself as he walked back into the bedroom.