The scent of his and Roland’s blood still tainted the air outside, thanks to the lack of a breeze.
Aidan kept his ears tuned to Dana as he opened his car’s trunk and retrieved the duffel bag Brodie kept there for him. He didn’t think he had ever used it before. Since he could teleport, a shower and clean clothes were always just a heartbeat away, but his Second insisted he keep it in the car just in case.
Closing the trunk, he headed back inside and locked the door behind him.
Dana’s shower didn’t last long.
Aidan waited in the hallway, so concerned about her that he didn’t even ponder how alluring she must look, smoothing soapsuds all over her delectable body.
The bathroom door opened. Balmy, humid air wafted out and embraced him.
Dana stopped short when she saw him. Dark, wet hair bracketed a pretty face free of makeup. Her smooth, pale skin glistened with a hint of moisture, much of it exposed by the fluffy white towel she had wrapped around herself sarong style. The end was tucked between her breasts, drawing his gaze to her tempting cleavage. Most of her shapely legs were left bare by the towel, which barely covered her bottom.
Even as tired and anxious as he was, Aidan felt his body harden, which meant— “Your eyes are glowing,” she mentioned, voice hushed.
Damn it. Bending, he grabbed the handles of his duffel bag. “I’ll only be a minute.”
Nodding, she stepped aside.
Aidan felt her gaze as he entered the bathroom but didn’t look at her again before he closed the door. Disrobing at preternatural speeds, he showered equally fast, then donned the black T-shirt, boxers, and cargo pants he found in the duffel bag. His feet he opted to leave bare for now. After taking a moment to drag his hands through his wet hair, he tucked all his bloodstained clothes in the duffel, zipped it, grabbed his boots and opened the bathroom door.
Dana swore softly, out of sight. A rustle of clothing ensued.
When Aidan entered the bedroom, Dana stood with her back to him, naked save for a pair of lavender-and-black plaid shorts.
Aidan’s hand clenched around the duffel bag’s handles as he stared at her back. Smooth and soft he knew from the times he had slipped his hands beneath her shirt, it tapered down from her shoulders to a narrow waist, the sides of her full breasts visible when she raised her arms and hastily tugged a lavender tank top over her head.
Pulling the hem down to meet the shorts, she turned to face him. “Wow. When you said you’d only be a minute, you weren’t exaggerating.”
Dana usually dressed conservatively compared to the young women Aidan saw on television and on college campuses who wore pants cut so low you could see their butt cracks, and shirts with necklines that dipped so low he was surprised their nipples didn’t show.
To see Dana now in shorts so short they barely covered her lovely bottom and a tank top that clung to her form and revealed more cleavage than usual thoroughly scattered his thoughts.
“What?” he asked belatedly.
She pulled her damp hair out of the front of her tank top and flipped it around to settle against her back. “I said that was fast. It literally only took you a minute.”
Wet splotches darkened her tank top in places. The hard beads of her nipples pressed against the light fabric. Sooooo tempting.
He forced his gaze up to her face. “I’m sorry, what?”
She grinned. “Thank you.”
He raised his brows. “For what?”
“For making me feel normal again. For making this—you and me—feel normal again.”
He lifted one shoulder in a shrug and sent her a rueful smile. “I can’t help it. You take my breath away.”
“I could say the same thing,” she responded.
He glanced down, then up again. “I’m fully clothed, except for my bare feet.”
“And even fully clothed, you take my breath away,” she admitted with a smile.
Aidan relaxed.
The next several minutes were refreshingly domestic. Aidan plunked his bag and boots down on the far side of the bed and laid his coat over it, weapons exposed. Then he and Dana removed the bloodstained bedding and replaced it with fresh sheets and a pretty quilt she said her great-grandmother had made.
Aidan drew back the covers and motioned for her to lie down.
She did, curling up on her side.
After draping the covers over her, he walked around to the far side of the bed and slipped in beside her.
She started to turn toward him.
Aidan rested a hand on her shoulder, silently asking her to stay where she was.
She stilled.
Slowly, he eased forward and spooned up behind her. When she didn’t protest, he slid one arm beneath her pillow, then curled the other around her waist and drew her against him, snuggling her close. Her back met his chest. Her full hips cradled his erection. The back of her lovely legs molded to the front of his.
Sighing, he buried his face in her cool, damp, fragrant hair.
He needed this so much.
He heard her heart rate increase and hoped it wasn’t due to fear. “I tend to sleep deeply after I’ve been wounded,” he murmured drowsily, fatigue pulling at him despite his desire to stay awake, “so if you want to stake me through the heart, that would be the best time to do it.”
She rested her arm atop his and toyed with his fingers. “I’m not going to stake you,” she whispered and pressed a kiss to his knuckles.
Nodding, Aidan clung to consciousness and savored the moment as long as he could.
Dana’s eyes flew open.
Aidan’s big warm body still spooned around hers, his front glued to her back. The arm he had wrapped around her was heavy and relaxed. His muscled chest rose and fell with deep, even breaths.
She frowned. What had woken her?
The faint illumination that filtered in from the streetlight out front didn’t allow her to see much farther than the bedside table.
Easing Aidan’s arm off her, she sat up and reached for the cell phone she usually kept by the bed at night but didn’t find it.
She must have left it downstairs.
Opening the top drawer in the table, she felt around until her fingers closed around her iPod. Pressing the power button, she slid her thumb across the screen to unlock it.
Pastel wallpaper lit up the screen, along with the time: 3:57.
Looked like they’d slept for several hours.
She glanced at the battery indicator. Red instead of white. Seven percent battery power left. That should be enough to help her fetch her cell phone.
Rising, she tiptoed out of the bedroom and into the hallway.
The house seemed to slumber, too, encapsulating her in quiet. Even the air conditioner made no sound.
Moving toward the stairs, she turned on the iPod’s bright flashlight.
Much better. She hadn’t wanted to turn it on in the bedroom and risk waking Aidan.
Descending the staircase, she passed the door she had forgotten to close earlier and entered her shop. All seemed quiet there, too.
Padding forward, toes curling against the cold wood floor, she found her cell phone where she had left it on the counter before all hell had broken loose.