regions of her body she didn’t want to acknowledge.
He was gorgeous—muscular, tanned, and … ugh , not a thing like Bea’s prune-like body.
You’re a pasty blonde Olive Oil , she reminded herself as she went back to the sink and rinsed the washcloth. This helped, the knowledge that he found her repulsive. It also caused an inward grimace because every lass just loved to hear how unattractive she was to a stunning bloke. It was irrational that the thought stung as much as it did.
Sighing, she turned back and continued her task. She began to clean his neck and shoulders.
“Would you kindly answer my question?” he gritted out.
Joss frowned. “What question?” She turned to rinse again.
His voice rose. “Why can’t you leave this room?”
“Ahh,” she nodded, remembering the previous evening. As she strolled toward him with her freshly rinsed cloth, her arms lifted and wafted about the space. “This is home. As you said last night, I do Patrice’s bidding. Unwillingly, however.”
He gave her a skeptical once over. “You speak as though you’re bent.”
A humorless smile crossed. “Ding, ding, we have a winner! And you’ll receive the grand prize of becoming bent yerself.” She grabbed his forearm, and began to wipe it down, being mindful of the bandages. She noted that her previous apprehension regarding giving a sexy stranger a scrub down was fading. Olive Oil , she chimed in her head. And at least playing nursemaid broke up the monotony of her usual routine. Normally, she’d be on push-up number 75 right about now.
He cursed loudly. This was another thing she’d noticed, the man’s steady use of profanity. She often swam in the sailor’s seas herself, but this lad set a new precedence.
“Is that why they saved me?” he asked.
“I suspect, but with Patrice, who knows. What are you anyway? A reader or shield?” As she awaited his response, she trekked back to the sink, only to halt halfway and turn back. She grabbed the end of the gurney, and as she did so, she saw the man give her a curious glance. Dragging the gurney closer to the sink, she muttered, “This may not be a large cell but I’m gettin’ a might dizzy from walking in circles.”
His lip twitched, maybe amused.
As she filled the sink with clean water and soaped up the cloth, he replied, “I’m a reader and hypnotic, and I already know you’re a shield … amongst other things.” His innuendo spoke volumes.
She sighed, ringing out the washcloth, then steeled herself for his reaction as she looked straight into his eyes. “Yes, I’m telekinetic.” She wondered if Declan had ever told anyone within the agency about her ability—he swore not to. In fact, he swore never to speak of her, and the man before her seemed genuinely shocked.
“How’d they find you?” He then winced, placing his hand over his stomach.
“Are you all right?”
“It’s the meds. I think I need to eat. My gut’s doing zero to sixty.”
“Shite!” How could she not feed the poor man? Obviously nursing was a career path she needed to avoid. She glanced toward the thermos but figured the soup was probably cold by now. She then went to her bed and lifted the corner mattress, then grabbed the granola bar that lay underneath. “Here.”
“Won’t they feed us?”
“Aye, but at their leisure. It could be a while. Here.” She
He was gorgeous—muscular, tanned, and … ugh , not a thing like Bea’s prune-like body.
You’re a pasty blonde Olive Oil , she reminded herself as she went back to the sink and rinsed the washcloth. This helped, the knowledge that he found her repulsive. It also caused an inward grimace because every lass just loved to hear how unattractive she was to a stunning bloke. It was irrational that the thought stung as much as it did.
Sighing, she turned back and continued her task. She began to clean his neck and shoulders.
“Would you kindly answer my question?” he gritted out.
Joss frowned. “What question?” She turned to rinse again.
His voice rose. “Why can’t you leave this room?”
“Ahh,” she nodded, remembering the previous evening. As she strolled toward him with her freshly rinsed cloth, her arms lifted and wafted about the space. “This is home. As you said last night, I do Patrice’s bidding. Unwillingly, however.”
He gave her a skeptical once over. “You speak as though you’re bent.”
A humorless smile crossed. “Ding, ding, we have a winner! And you’ll receive the grand prize of becoming bent yerself.” She grabbed his forearm, and began to wipe it down, being mindful of the bandages. She noted that her previous apprehension regarding giving a sexy stranger a scrub down was fading. Olive Oil , she chimed in her head. And at least playing nursemaid broke up the monotony of her usual routine. Normally, she’d be on push-up number 75 right about now.
He cursed loudly. This was another thing she’d noticed, the man’s steady use of profanity. She often swam in the sailor’s seas herself, but this lad set a new precedence.
“Is that why they saved me?” he asked.
“I suspect, but with Patrice, who knows. What are you anyway? A reader or shield?” As she awaited his response, she trekked back to the sink, only to halt halfway and turn back. She grabbed the end of the gurney, and as she did so, she saw the man give her a curious glance. Dragging the gurney closer to the sink, she muttered, “This may not be a large cell but I’m gettin’ a might dizzy from walking in circles.”
His lip twitched, maybe amused.
As she filled the sink with clean water and soaped up the cloth, he replied, “I’m a reader and hypnotic, and I already know you’re a shield … amongst other things.” His innuendo spoke volumes.
She sighed, ringing out the washcloth, then steeled herself for his reaction as she looked straight into his eyes. “Yes, I’m telekinetic.” She wondered if Declan had ever told anyone within the agency about her ability—he swore not to. In fact, he swore never to speak of her, and the man before her seemed genuinely shocked.
“How’d they find you?” He then winced, placing his hand over his stomach.
“Are you all right?”
“It’s the meds. I think I need to eat. My gut’s doing zero to sixty.”
“Shite!” How could she not feed the poor man? Obviously nursing was a career path she needed to avoid. She glanced toward the thermos but figured the soup was probably cold by now. She then went to her bed and lifted the corner mattress, then grabbed the granola bar that lay underneath. “Here.”
“Won’t they feed us?”
“Aye, but at their leisure. It could be a while. Here.” She
Similar Books
