“If you will not be seduced, yet you will also not talk with me, what other choices have you left us? I will not allow you to think ill of me forever without allowing me the chance to explain my own actions. It would be unfair to expect as much.”
Kylie tried again to push him away. He didn’t tighten his hold, but he didn’t budge, either. Maybe he really was made of granite. “Fine, you can explain all you want, but you’ll have to do it later. Outside the shower. After we’re both fully clothed.”
One long finger tapped thoughtfully against her skin, low on her belly. Whether the gesture was deliberate or unconscious, it made Kylie’s belly clench and her mouth go dry. She deliberately failed to take stock of any effect it might have between her legs.
“That seems inefficient.” Dag leaned down to rest his chin on the top of her wet hair so that she felt entirely surrounded by him, yet curiously she felt more protected than threatened. “We are both here, and the nature of bathing ensures us of adequate privacy. Also, we should have nothing to hide from each other. We have been skin to skin already, so modesty is not necessary between us.”
“Says you.”
“What is the purpose of hiding from one another what has already been seen and felt by us both?” When Kylie didn’t answer, Dag’s hands gently urged her around to face him. “Do you feel there is some indecency in your lack of clothing? Because you cannot think that the sight of your body would do anything but give me pleasure.”
Okay, so despite her embarrassment and lingering irritation, Kylie couldn’t deny a surge of pleasure at hearing that. Still, a girl had to make a stand from time to time. “This is not about whether or not we’ve had sex.”
“Is it not? That was what you and your friend discussed when you were alone, is it not? And it made you angry. Even before Knox and I joined you in the kitchen, you had begun to grow upset with me. In fact, you were upset before you even left the bed we shared.”
Given the way she’d jumped off said bed, muttering to herself in Yiddish, she supposed a denial would prove pointless. “I was … at myself. At my own behavior. I don’t usually act like that.” She looked down at herself and grimaced. “And I don’t usually have conversations while I’m standing around in nothing but my business.”
Dag’s eyes twinkled. “What is the human saying? Ah, business is good, yes?” When she just rolled her eyes, he sighed and pulled her tight against him, so not even the water rolled between them. “There. Now I cannot see that you are naked, so now may we talk?”
“Oh, sure, because that”—Kylie wiggled her belly against his erect penis—“is not at all distracting.”
“If I can ignore it, I do not see why you cannot.”
“It keeps poking me!”
“It consumes blood supply meant for my brain. On whom, then, does it have a greater effect?”
“I can’t believe I’m standing in the shower arguing about your dick.” Kylie gave up and let her forehead smack against his hard chest. Almost as good as a brick wall. “Fine. Say whatever you think you have to say, then get out. Go.”
At least she’d had the foresight to ensure the house had on-demand hot water, since the only thing that would make this discussion more fun would be the shower turning into an ice bath in the middle of it.
The silent pause told her he hadn’t really expected to win that argument. She just hoped he was enjoying it, because from now on, she’d be taking no prisoners.
“I failed to properly protect you, and there is no apology sufficient for that oversight. I can only admit to my own deficiency and vow to you that I will not again forget my duty or my purpose. I swear to you that I will keep you safe.”
Kylie shook her head without bothering to lift it. She didn’t need to be distracted by the sight of his nudity. It was bad enough that she should feel it. Every glorious, muscular, rock-hard inch of it.
Down, she mentally scolded. Bad hormones! Sit!
“I already told you that wasn’t a big deal,” she mumbled. “You didn’t fail to protect me from a threat, you just didn’t answer the door when someone knocked. Big difference. I think we can both just forget about that.”
She felt him stiffen—his muscles, you damned endocrine system!—before he spoke with obvious caution in his tone. “But if you were not upset by my lack of readiness to protect you, then your argument with the witch implies you regret our mating for other reasons.”
“That’s just the problem,” she said, finally tipping her head back to meet his gaze. “When exactly did we mate? Because I don’t recall that happening, or ever being put out on the table. Then all of a sudden everyone is just moving forward as if it’s a done deal. What’s up with that?”