* * *
The washroom added new dimensions to the word scary.
It may have been wiped down sometime in the last month, but hardly cleaned. I averted my eyes as I used the toilet, telling myself that Rafael was a healer. Surely he could cure me of anything I might acquire in this place.
The fact it was recognizable as a toilet spoke volumes to the state of averages regarding elimination techniques. I decided that was a factoid I didn’t need to contemplate.
My skin crawled as though infested with lice, and I was desperate for a shower. Getting my clothes off was an exercise in determination, and my reward once I managed to turn the taps was a spurt of lukewarm, milky-looking fluid that dropped half-heartedly into the bottom of the tub.
Ugh.
Rafael rapped on the door. “You okay in there?”
“Yeah. Trying out the shower.”
A hesitation. Then, “Don’t fall.”
Well meant, but not particularly helpful. I minced my way over the tub lip and into the water. Where I surveyed the bar of partly used soap.
Nope. Not touching that.
I braced myself against the wall and did the best I could with the situation. There was half a bottle of something that formed suds, and I used that all over. It had a powerful floral scent that tickled my nose. Stifling a sneeze, I spun myself around, trying to rinse it off in the pathetic trickle. Finally gave up in disgust and started to climb out—
Mid-leg lift, and the sneeze won. A thunderous explosion that literally knocked me off my shaky feet. I landed with a thump and a sprawl on the other side of the tub.
The bathroom door opened so fast that I knew he’d been standing just outside it. “Hey!” I protested, attempting to cover the basics by coiling in a ball.
He crouched over me. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I just—sneezed.” The word drawled as his scent hit me. Hard. Crawling into his lap suddenly became my burning desire.
Instead, he grabbed a towel off the rack and wrapped it around me, then picked me straight up off the floor.
This guy wasn’t muscley like Marcus or Havoc, so it surprised me how easily he scooped me up. With the towel pinned neatly against his body, my arm was free to wrap around his shoulder as I leaned into him. I pushed my nose into his throat, and then, inhaled.
A part of me—a very small part—wondered just what the hell I was doing. I already had more male trouble than I could handle. But when Rafael’s arms tightened, I shook with the power of what coursed through me.
He wasmine. I knew it. And I wanted him with a desperation that stole my breath.
He carried me to the bed and released me with one arm as he flung back the covers. So far, so good. I was so overheated that we wouldn’t need them, anyway.
But then he lay me down on it, and tried to release me. I clung to him, attempting to pull him down with me.
“No, Riley,” he whispered.
I hadn’t expected another rejection. I released him like he’d scorched me, and looked up into his eyes.
They glowed. His scent swirled around me, and I ached for him.
“I have Satyr in me,” he said. “And right now, it wants you. Badly. It is convincing you that you want me, too.”
“Doing a damned good job of it,” I growled at him. “But I don’t think it’s just the way you smell that’s attracting me.”
He backed away. “You are not well. And therefore, not making the best decisions.”
“How about I decide whether I’m making the best decisions?” I pushed myself up and let the towel fall away.
His eyes widened. And then, the bastard ripped them away from what I so prominently displayed. He strode to the window and looked out.
