Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Roman stacked the last of the dishes in the sink and glanced over the bar into the living room where Irina was curled up at one end of the plush sectional, a pair of fuzzy pink socks adorning her feet.
The sight made him want to smile. She wore little else in the way of clothing, only a camisole and a pair of tiny shorts, but she always had a pair of those fuzzy socks on. What was with that?
He didn’t realize he’d spoken aloud until Irina’s head swiveled his way. “What’s with what?”
Embarrassed to have been caught watching her, he dropped his eyes back to the sink and fiddled with the utensils for a moment. “Your socks.”
He dried his hands on a dish towel as he glanced over at her again. She lifted one shoulder. “My feet are always cold.”
He cracked a grin. “Have you tried wearing clothes?”
She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t say the rest of me was cold, just my feet.”
“Gotcha.” He sank onto the couch a few cushions away and spread his arms out over the back. “What’re you watching?”
“I don’t honestly know.” She gently tossed the remote his way. “I don’t get a chance to watch much TV, so if there’s something you want to turn on, go ahead.”
“This is fine.” He turned his attention to the reality show on TV. From what he’d gathered, a dozen or so strangers were all on an island, apparently looking for love. Twenty minutes later, he was reluctant to admit that it had sucked him in.
“What a tool.” He gestured to the guy on the screen. “Do women actually go for that?”
Irina shrugged. “I guess so. In my experience, all the good ones seem to be taken.”
He snorted. The only men she’d been with recently were money-hungry, douchebag pretty boys, so it didn’t surprise him that she hadn’t found anyone worthwhile. Keeping the comment to himself, he turned his attention back to the TV until the show ended.
Irina slapped a hand over her mouth to cover a yawn, and he glanced over at her. “Are you ready for bed?”
Her face scrunched up in apology. “Sorry. It’s been kind of a long day. You can stay up if you want.”
He’d been dreading this moment all day long, but he couldn’t put it off any longer. He picked up the remote and turned off the TV. “That’s okay, we can head to bed. I need to do a quick once over of the house, then figure out where I’m going to sleep.”
Part of him stupidly, irrationally, hoped she would voice her offer to let him sleep in bed with her again. Before he could say anything he would regret, he continued. “Why don’t you use the bathroom first, and I’ll shower up when you’re done.”
Without waiting for an answer, he headed to the sliding door by the patio and checked to make sure it was locked. Though he didn’t look at her, he heard Irina’s soft footsteps pad down the short hallway and into the bathroom.
Heaving a sigh, he checked each window and door thoroughly, wasting as much time as possible before he had to join her in the bedroom. Once he was sure that everything was locked up tight, he grabbed a change of clothes from his suitcase and slipped into the bathroom to get ready.
He took a quick shower, not wanting to leave her unattended too long, then hopped out and yanked on his clothes. He steeled himself as he flicked off the light and headed toward the bedroom. Irina was waiting on the edge of the bed when he entered.
She’d worn the tiny tank top and shorts all evening, but somehow, the sight of her wearing them here in the bedroom was a thousand times more erotic.
He wanted to slide the spaghetti-thin strap down her shoulder, explore every inch of tanned, toned skin.
Forcing his gaze and thoughts away from her, he scanned the bedroom again.
The floor was tiled, probably for low maintenance reasons, but there was at least a rug under the bed.
The rug made a three-foot border around the bed, and the thin layer of woven fabric was better than nothing.
Pulling a blanket from the closet, he folded it in half for extra padding and laid it on the floor at the foot of the bed, placing himself between both the sliding door and the door to the hallway.
He gestured with his chin toward the bed. “Can I steal a pillow?”
Silently, Irina reached behind her to snag a pillow, then threw it his way.
“Thanks.” He dropped it to the floor then found an outlet close by to charge his phone. Irina still sat on the edge of the bed, and he finally lifted his eyes to hers. “Do you need anything else before we hit the hay?”
She shook her head slowly. “Nope. I’m good.”
He spun on a heel and took two quick steps toward the door, then flipped off the overhead light.
The rustle of sheets met his ears as Irina slipped under them, and he bit his tongue, willing himself not to look.
He settled onto his makeshift pallet and tucked his hands beneath his head, staring at the ceiling.
The blankets made it more comfortable, and it definitely wasn’t the worst place he’d ever slept.
“Night.” Irina’s soft voice floated on the still air down to him.
“Night.” He closed his eyes and tried to shut off his brain to settle in to sleep, but all he could see was her.
He remembered the look of wonder on her face the moment they stepped onto the beach and she’d seen the ocean for the first time.
He heard her tinkling laugh as the cool water lapped over her toes, the huge smile lighting her face more radiant than the sun.
And that tiny red bikini… She was so gorgeous. The sight of her sleek body was like a drug to his system. He shifted uncomfortably and bit back an oath as heat raced through him.
No. He couldn’t think of her like that. She was slowly burrowing under his skin with those sweet smiles that made him want to show her everything, spend every minute of the next thirteen days exploring the island from top to bottom.
He wanted to throw the rules out the window—but he couldn’t. They were there for her safety, and it needed to stay that way. In order to pull this whole thing off, he needed to spend more time watching their surroundings and less time checking out Irina.
A soft creak of the mattress drew his attention back to her as she shifted in bed.
He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, finally managing to wrangle his wayward thoughts under control.
He closed his eyes and willed himself to go to sleep.
But he was trained to be attuned to his surroundings, and his ears perked up at every little sound—and there were a lot of those.
For the next several hours, he lay on the floor in a state of torture as Irina tossed and turned in the bed just a few feet away.
He couldn’t help but wonder if she was as uncomfortable and on edge as he was.
Finally, in the still-early morning when he could drag it out no longer, he hauled himself to his feet.
With a grimace, he stretched his sore muscles then glanced over at the bed. Irina slumbered away, her face relaxed, long blonde strands spread out behind her on the pillowcase. She seemed so small, so vulnerable, and a strange sense of possessiveness washed over him.
He gave a slight jerk of his head, shaking off the strange emotion.
Though he’d spent years in the military watching over others, this was the first time he’d ever been in a situation like the one with Irina.
Protecting a civilian—especially a woman—was different.
They were softer, more delicate… and infinitely more tempting.
He shut down that train of thought, chalking up the surge of protectiveness to the basic primitive need to keep her from harm.
He quietly exited the bedroom and closed the door behind him, then headed into the kitchen.
He’d never been a coffee person, and apparently Irina wasn’t either.
Neither of them had added it to the grocery list, and he couldn’t remember ever seeing her drink it.
He smiled. As different as they were, at least that was one thing they had in common.
The sun was just breaking over the horizon as he stepped into the backyard.
He shot a glance toward the sliding doors where Irina hopefully still snoozed away in bed and drew in a lungful of the salty ocean air.
After being with her almost every minute of the past twenty-four hours, he needed some time to himself to get his head on straight.
Irina was a walking wet dream, and it felt like his insides were literally twisted up in knots over the woman. His pulse kicked up and blood pumped furiously through his veins at the thought of her in that sexy swimsuit. He dropped his head back on a soft groan.
The only way he could think to solve the problem was to exhaust his body so completely that he couldn’t even get turned on by her. He had serious doubts it would work, but he had to try something. Because touching her was not an option. If he ever laid a hand on her, he knew it would be over.
Staying as quiet as humanly possible, he warmed up then moved into some of his Krav Maga workout.
He preferred to work with a partner to sharpen his skills and reaction time, but the movement felt good, and time slipped away as the sun rose higher in the sky.
He was breathing heavily by the time Irina stepped onto the patio in a sports bra and another pair of tiny shorts.
Despite his fatigue, he felt his body react at the sight of those lean legs. So much for hoping his body would be too tired to react to her. He clenched his teeth as she practically skipped over to him, her perfect white smile lighting her face.
“What are you doing?”
Trying to kill himself so he’ll stop getting so worked up over you. He cleared his throat. “Working out.”
“Well, yeah.” She rolled her eyes. “I know that. But I mean”—she wiggled her fingers in his direction—“what kind of moves are those? Is that some type of karate?”
“Krav Maga,” he corrected.
“Krav Maga.” She tested the words on her tongue, then bounced on her toes, her eyes shining with interest. “Can you teach me?”
He froze. “What?”
“You know.” She made the hand gesture again. “The self-defense stuff.”
“Um…” He couldn’t deny that it would actually be a good idea for her to learn, but self-defense was up-close-and-personal. His hands would be all over her, every inch, and he broke into a sweat just thinking about it. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
His mind spun to come up with an excuse. “Beginners normally start on the mats. The grass can get slick, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”
It sounded feeble to his ears, and they burned as she stared incredulously at him, like she wasn’t buying the crap he was selling. Neither was he.
She pursed her lips. “Well, it’s not like some stranger is going to wait until I’m in some soft, padded area to attack me.”
And there it was, the logic he so desperately despised. He grunted. “You don’t need to learn.”
“What if I need to protect myself?”
“You won’t,” he snapped. “I’m here to take care of that.”
“You won’t be around forever,” she pointed out.
Score one for the blonde. And why did hearing those words hurt so bad? A dull ache thudded through his chest, infuriating him further. “I’m here now.”
“So?” She threw her hands in the air. “What about when you’re gone?”
“Just leave it alone, Irina.”
“I don’t understand—”
“Enough!” He barked out. “I’m not teaching you, and that’s final.”
“What is wrong with you?” Tears shimmered in her eyes as she glared up at him. “You’re such a jerk.”
She spun on a heel and stormed into the house, and the sliding door slammed in her wake.
She was right. He was a complete jerk. All she’d done was ask that he teach her some moves to defend herself, which wasn’t an unreasonable request at all.
But the thought of running his hands all over her body knowing he would never be able to have her… It was too much.
He was pissed at himself for overreacting and hurting her feelings again, but he didn’t know how to fix it.
He’d either push her away or cross the line and do something he couldn’t take back.
Because he knew he didn’t have the self-control to have her in his arms without wanting to kiss her and so much more.
Now he’d ruined the tenuous balance between them because he couldn’t set his attraction for her aside to do the right thing.
It was going to be a long two weeks.