Chapter Sixteen #2
She couldn’t help feeling he had read her thoughts and was unhappy or irritated.
Then again, she couldn’t blame him for wanting to shower and change into fresh clothes.
Theirs had air-dried while meeting with Beth.
Her pants and shirt were stiff and uncomfortable.
“I’ll do the same.” But she didn’t head upstairs and noticed Camden didn’t turn around, which worried her. “Then maybe we grab food later?”
“Sounds like a plan.” But he still didn’t turn around. Camden stalked around the kitchen, tossing the football, instead of using the downstairs bathroom to shower.
She bit her lip but returned to her bedroom—well, his bedroom that he was loaning her. His temporary bedroom, where the sheets and pillow didn’t smell like him and the walls were bare of personality. What did his real home look like?
Amelia undressed and stepped into the shower.
It was high-end and luxurious. Water could spray from any direction she wanted.
The floors and towel rack were heated, and the mirrors barely fogged.
This house had more tricks up its sleeve than the weapons it hid in the closets.
Once her life was untangled and Hailey was home safe, Amelia might invest in a bathroom renovation.
She stayed under the hot water until she was worried none would be left for Camden, then she wrapped her hair and herself in warm towels of thick cotton.
She slathered on face cream and opened the bathroom door.
Cold air rolled in. Laying her change of clothes on the towel heater would have been a genius move.
She decided to warm up under the covers before donning an outfit for dinner.
Amelia pulled back the sheets and closed her eyes.
She would stay there only long enough to adjust to the bedroom temperature.
Camden crept up the stairs, silently cursing his lack of forethought. “Amelia?” he whispered.
She was asleep, he was sure. He’d heard the water turn off well before he took his own shower downstairs. There hadn’t been a peep from her since.
The door was cracked.
“Amelia?”
The November sun had set. The drawn windows were dark. Only a slice of light from the bathroom illuminated the room. She was asleep with a towel wrapped around her hair and the covers pulled up to her chin.
With a towel wrapped around his waist, he crept to the small chest of drawers.
“Cam?”
Shit. “Just grabbing clean clothes. I’ll be out in a minute.”
A mirror on the dresser reflected the room at his back. Amelia sat up. The hair towel wobbled, and she pulled it down. Her dark hair fell loose around her shoulders. “God, I’m freezing.”
He forced his eyes to the drawers, pulled out his needed clothes, and unintentionally saw her reflection again. Amelia wriggled with the covers and removed a second towel. “I fell asleep in a damp towel.”
Jesus fucking Christ. That wasn’t what he needed to see or hear.
He’d all but kissed her when they walked inside and had to walk away from her without looking back.
His heart thumped in his chest. Between the two of them, a towel and blanket were all that kept them decent.
All of the blood in his body was going to his cock, and he needed to focus on getting the hell out of that room.
She wrapped herself in the comforter and scooted to the edge of the bed.
Her eyes met his in the mirror. “Can I wear something comfy of yours?” Her gaze drifted down his back before jerking to the wall, making his pulse pound harder.
She added on, explaining, “I didn’t bring any lounge-around-the-house clothes. ”
Her in his clothes? He liked that, too, which wasn’t helpful.
But a clothed Amelia was much, much better than her nearly naked and an arm’s reach away.
He needed to treat her like a client. No, actually, he needed to treat her like a victim because that was what she was, no matter if they were “working” on her goose chase.
Camden licked his bottom lip, refocused, and nodded.
He chose a T-shirt but didn’t know what to do for pants.
Several clothing options were probably stocked in the closet for people who used the safe house, but again, he thought of her in his clothes and didn’t offer to look.
He selected his most comfortable gray sweatpants and turned.
“You could probably roll these on your waist to make them fit.”
The safest option was to throw the shirt and pants at her and haul ass downstairs. The tightness in his chest made it loud and clear that wasn’t what he really wanted to do. Camden should’ve put on the dirty clothes after his shower and stayed downstairs.
“Are you mad at me?” she asked.
His eyebrows arched. “What? No.” He racked his mind for ways that he could have made her think he was upset. “Why?”
She lifted a bare shoulder. “When we arrived, I thought… maybe I was overstaying my welcome.”
She meant that moment when he damn near ran away instead of taking her against the wall. He was an asshole and needed to get himself in order before he did something he couldn’t take back.
“Not at all.”
“Oh.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Okay.”
Uncertainty and tension mixed in the crackling air. He should probably say more, but all he could think about was wanting to get into her bed. He really needed to get the hell out of that room.
“I’m kind of getting that same feeling now.” She bit her lip, and a blush rose into her cheeks. “If I did something to make you feel uncomfortable, I’m really sorry.”
“You didn’t do anything,” he said too shortly.
She clearly didn’t believe him. Hell, he wouldn’t believe himself either. He walked to the edge of the bed and sat, at which point he faced the door that he should’ve been walking out of. “I promise. I’m not mad. I’m just…” He dropped his head back and stared at the ceiling. “Struggling.”
“You don’t want to help me with Hailey?”
He snorted. “Work is the last fuckin’ thing on my mind.” He glanced over his shoulder. “That’s my problem.”
Her cherry lips rounded as if she suddenly saw his action in an entirely different light.
“I should go downstairs.” Should was the operative word, but he didn’t move a damn muscle.
The comforter rustled behind him, and her hand cupped his shoulder.
Her touch heated his skin in a way that he couldn’t believe possible.
His shoulder muscles tensed. Arousal pounded in his blood with an intoxicating buzz.
Camden let out a shaky breath and stared at her hand then into her face again, praying he was misreading everything between them.
But that was not what he saw. Fuck. “This is a bad idea, Amelia.”
She didn’t pull her hand away, and he didn’t want her to. Of all the women in the world, this one didn’t play hard to get. She wasn’t the type for games or bullshit, and he’d never been the type to ignore what he wanted, except right then.
Amelia let go. “How come?”
“I don’t know how long I’m here for. I could be gone by the morning.
” Her palm had seared his skin in a way that he would always be able to feel all the way back in Abu Dhabi.
He forced himself off the bed and turned.
There was a simple answer she wouldn’t like to hear. “And you have been through a lot.”
“You’ve helped me survive a lot,” she countered with a quickness that made him want to smile.
Instead, he ground his molars until he was certain of what would come out of his mouth. “That’s exactly why we shouldn’t.” He licked his lips. “We’re not on the same playing field right now.”
“I should’ve gathered you were one for sports metaphors.”
He chuckled. She gave him an erection and made him laugh.
That was why saying no was nearly impossible.
Wasn’t that what romance was all about? Though romance was more than a quick screw on the job.
Camden walked to the edge of the bed. Crawling under the covers would change everything.
Then again, who cared? Dynamics were meant to be fluid.
Amelia lay down and rested her head on the pillows. “Do you think I’m attractive?”
“You know I think you’re gorgeous.”
“I don’t know that.” She blinked hard. “Cam, you’re the only thing I know that’s safe. You’re the person I trust.”