When she was finished, he plucked her from his shower and wrapped her in an oversize towel. He patted the drops of water from her fragile skin, thankful for the first time that his housekeeper had gone for the feminine fluff.
He kissed her legs as he dried them, her back, her shoulders. He stood and saw her eyes welling with tears, her bottom lip trembling. “Come here.” He caught a tear with his finger, then kissed her damp cheek. Slender arms came tight around his waist. It was hitting her now. God knows it was hitting him.
“Sit down.” His throat was raw, his voice jagged. But it wouldn’t compare to hers. He filled a glass of water, pushed it into her hand.
Hannah sat where he directed on the side of the tub and caught a glimpse of herself in his mirror. “Oh my gosh.”
“Yes. I know.”
“No wonder you look so…”
Terrified? He left her side for two seconds to get the ointment from his first-aid box in the closet. “It won’t burn,” he said, opening the ointment. With trembling fingers, he dabbed soothing burn cream on a dozen little places where hot ashes had singed her skin. One at her temple, several across her cheeks and arms. “This isn’t exactly how I pictured you in my bathroom, naked and near that tub.”
A ghost of a smile crossed her lips as he’d wanted.
“I was thinking more along the lines of bubble bath.” He finished the last and kissed her forehead. “Another time.”
“You never brought me here before.”
“No.” He returned the ointment to the box. “I’ve never brought any woman here.” But he could have brought Hannah. Had no problem with her being here. So why hadn’t he?
Their eyes met in the mirror. There were questions there, but she didn’t ask and he didn’t answer. He couldn’t, not now. Not with his insides still twisted, unsure he would ever get over seeing that fire and her body lying in the grass beside it. He could have lost her.
Drops of water slipped from the ends of her hair down her arms and she shivered.
“Come on. Let’s get you dry and into bed.” When she was seated on the edge, he pulled a T-shirt over her head. He draped a blanket around her shoulders, and rubbed her hair dry with another towel until the ends were no longer dripping. “That’s enough.” He drew back the covers, ushered her to climb in. When he had the blanket pulled up and around them both, he gathered her against him. Wrapped her in his arms as close and tight as he could.
He stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head tucked under his chin, thinking about what could have happened. And what he’d been doing, where he’d been.
If he’d been there, she never would have gotten within a hundred yards of that fire. The fear when he’d seen her on the ground had sucked the air from his lungs, knocked the breath right out of him. But he got a similar breathless feeling when he made love to her; when he watched her walk into a room; watched her eat, or ride, or work with the kids.
She shivered again and curled deeper into his chest. It didn’t escape him that he’d spent the majority of the past five years imagining what life would have been like if a certain woman hadn’t died. Now he lay here while a hard rain beat on the skylight above his bed, wondering how he would live if Hannah had.
Maybe he could love her without destroying them both. Maybe he already did.
Chapter 41
Hannah woke slowly and stretched, feeling every sore spot. The night before came back to her. The fire. Stephen doctoring her, holding her, looking edgier than she’d ever seen him. She rolled on the smooth chocolate-brown sheets. Stephen’s bed, but she was alone. She took in his room. Dark beige walls and carved black wood under a high ceiling. The skylight above the bed, letting in the morning.
There were voices at the front door and she strained to hear. Stephen’s and a woman’s. Lexie.
She rushed out just in time to see him closing his front door. “Who was that?”
“No one.”
“It was someone.”
He crossed the room in quick strides and laid his hands on her shoulders.
Fear gripped her chest and her mind raced to the worst. “Tell me.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. It was just business. I already called the hospital. Lexie’s stable. Improved.”
“Okay.” She let out the breath she’d been holding. Took another. “Okay. I need to go there.”
“I’ll drive you.”
She touched the soft cotton of Stephen’s T-shirt hanging to her knees. “I have to go home first. I need clothes.”
“I like you in that.”
She tried to smile, but the fire and the fear invaded. “No. I need to go home. I need to see the horses. I need to see Winnie. She’s probably scared and I just left last night and…”
“Hey.” His hands moved up to cup her neck.
She felt her burning eyes fill with tears. “I’ll get my car and…”
“Shh.” He kissed her soft and sweet, giving her something wonderful to replace the awful. Then he didn’t say anything for several seconds, just studied her like he was trying to make a decision. Finally, he took her face gently and pressed another kiss to her lips.
“Give me a second to change. You want some water?”