Bedroom Secrets. Michelle Celmer

possible.

      When he looked out at Tina, she was staring at her hands, eyes wide, the color leached from her face. “It burns.”

      Aw, hell. He grabbed her arm and pulled her into the tub with him. When the first blast of cold water hit her she squealed and tried to break free, but he held on. He hugged her against his chest, tucking her head snugly under his chin. “Hold still.”

      “Cold,” she gasped.

      No kidding. He was soaked to the bone and shivering, but it sure as hell beat that agonizing burn. If he wasn’t so concerned about her welfare, he’d be ripping her a new one right now.

      She stopped struggling and went very still in his arms. A moment later she said softly, “I feel better. You think maybe you could, um, let me go now?”

      He looked down and realized his hand was cupped over her generous left breast. He abruptly let go and backed away from her. How in the hell had he gone from not being able to be in the same room with Tina, to groping her in the shower?

      Excruciating pain maybe?

      She bent over and shut the water off, then turned to face him. Her dark hair hung in damp ringlets around her face. Her T-shirt was dripping and hung heavy against her full breasts, outlining everything down to the finest detail, and considering the frigid water temperature, there was a lot of detail. And hey, she wasn’t wearing pants. Could this get any better?

      At least she was wearing panties—skimpy pink panties with what looked like kittens on them. Jesus.

      She looked damned appealing standing there. So why wasn’t his heart racing? Why wasn’t he sweating and short of breath?

      Because he was blood-boiling, spitting mad, he realized. Despite the fact that he had a near-naked, soaking-wet, sexy-as-hell woman less than three feet away, this was the least arousing situation he’d been in his whole damned life.

      Hallelujah, he was cured.

      “I am so sorry,” she said, her lower lip trembling. It could have been from the cold, or fear. Frankly he didn’t care which.

      He wiped away the water that was leaking off his hair and dripping into his eyes. “Is that so?”

      “I can explain everything.”

      “Good. Explain to me what the hell you’re doing in my house.”

      Three

      “C-could I dry off f-first?” Tina asked, her voice quivering. Not only were her lips trembling, they were turning blue.

      “Yeah, sorry.” Ty stepped out of the tub, his tennis shoes squishing on the tile. He was pretty cold himself. But when he looked around for something to dry off with, he remembered the house was empty. There were no towels.

      Great.

      “P-paper towels in the kitchen,” she said, hugging herself.

      Better than nothing.

      His shoes making a loud sucking noise against his feet, he walked out to the kitchen and grabbed two rolls. Back in the bathroom he ripped one package open and tossed it to her, then opened the other for himself.

      He pulled a handful of towels loose and dried his chest and arms. “Where are your clothes?” he asked.

      She bit her lip. “In the washing machine.”

      He closed his eyes and cursed under his breath. “Tell me they’re not wet.”

      “They’re wet. I was going to put them in the dryer but I forgot.”

      “Wonderful. You don’t have anything that’s dry?”

      She shook her head.

      “I have a gym bag in my truck. There’s probably something in there you could wear. While I’m getting it, do me a favor and put your clothes in the dryer. Okay?”

      She nodded.

      He left her in the bathroom and trudged out the front door, bare-chested and soaking wet, into the near-freezing air. When he’d driven past on his way home and seen the kitchen light blazing, he’d figured the painters or carpet installers had left it on. Never had he expected to find Tina hiding in the bedroom closet.

      And he really hadn’t expected to be blasted with pepper spray.

      He grabbed his gym bag off the front seat of his truck and jogged back up to the house. No way was he getting her out of here without dry clothes on. It was far too cold. She’d end up with pneumonia.

      When he stepped back inside she was just emerging from the basement. He dropped the bag on the floor and dug through it until he found what he was looking for.

      “I turned the heat up,” she said.

      He handed her a T-shirt and drawstring running shorts. “Put these on.”

      Tina looked at the clothes he’d handed her, then back at him. He was just as wet as she was, and that soaked denim couldn’t have been very comfortable. “What about you?”

      “Boxers,” he said, holding up a plaid pair. Her surprise must have shown because he narrowed his eyes at her and said, “Is that a problem?”

      “Nope.” She was just grateful he hadn’t tossed her out on her ear. Although, she was sure that was next. No way he would let her keep her job now.

      And who was she to complain if he wanted to walk around in his underwear? She’d imagined what he might look like without his clothes on. How could she not? She’d just never thought she would ever see him that way. And so far she wasn’t disappointed. She could swear his shoulders were about a yard wide, and his pecs were downright enormous. He was big all over, but not an ounce of him appeared to be fat.

      “I’m going to go downstairs and change and throw my pants in the dryer, then we’re going to have a talk about your future employment.”

      In other words, there would be no future employment. She nodded and he disappeared down the stairs.

      How had she managed to screw things up so badly? She could try crying again, but she doubted even that would work. Besides, she’d never been the type who could whip up fake tears on cue.

      She locked herself in the bathroom and peeled off her wet clothes. The things Ty had given her were way too big, but they were dry and would keep her modestly covered until her clothes were out of the dryer.

      She still couldn’t believe they’d stood in the shower together, semi-naked, and he’d had his hand on her breast. With the exception of her gynecological exam last year, she hadn’t been touched there since the summer before her senior year of high school, when she’d gone parking with Joe DeCaussin. He’d wanted to go farther, but she wouldn’t let him. She’d told him, next time, not knowing there wouldn’t be a next time.

      Aunt Louise had had her second stroke the very next day, effectively putting an end to Tina’s social life.

      Of course there was cousin Ray. He’d touched her breast, but that didn’t count since it had been revolting and against her will.

      But Ty’s hand had felt really nice resting there, after her hands and eyes had stopped burning.

      She hung her wet T-shirt over the curtain rod to dry and used paper towels to mop up the puddles of water on the floor.

      She noticed the mildew again and wondered if there was bleach with the cleaning supplies in the kitchen. Then she remembered it wasn’t her problem to deal with any longer. She was once again out of a job and homeless with no one to turn to for help. She should have been scared to death, but for some reason she just felt numb. Maybe she could curl up, go to sleep and when she woke, everything would be okay again.

      She heard Ty’s heavy footsteps on the basement stairs and, knowing she should just get this over with, opened the bathroom door and walked out into the living room where he was—oh boy—wearing