She nodded. “Thanks.”
He strode out of the house and grabbed the stuff up, trying to make it all in one go. He left the food and water bowls downstairs in the kitchen, along with the huge bag of food then made his way up with the bedding . . . and a bag of what looked to be dog clothing?
Really?
Climbing the stairs, he entered her room, surprised to see her still standing there. Her handbag was on the bed and the dog had managed to find the energy to crawl out and was currently curled up on her pillow.
Spike placed the dog bed down, putting the bag of clothing next to her suitcase on the bed. Then he shifted the dog onto his bed before turning back to her, wondering why she was so quiet. She’d barely spoken since they’d arrived.
Her arms were wrapped around herself, her eyes flicking around the room. She licked her full lips. The red lipstick she’d had on earlier was gone. She appeared pale and fragile. And he felt the urge to take her into his arms, to reassure her that everything would be all right.
Clearing his throat, he just stared at her, uncertain what to say. Words weren’t his specialty. He was a hands-on sort of guy.
“It’s late.”
She nodded.
 
; “You should sleep.”
Her gaze shifted to the bed. She nodded again. So his attempts at reassuring her were pretty crappy.
“Want some help?”
Her forehead puckered into a frown. “With sleeping?”
“Unpacking.”
“Umm, no.”
“Leave it until morning. Go to bed. Sleep.” Yes, he was aware he sounded bossy and gruff. But the more she just stood there, the greater his urge to take over became. To undress her himself. To take her to the bathroom and help her get ready for sleep. To tuck her into bed. Wrap her in his arms. And . . .
Fuck. He needed that cold shower. He hadn’t reacted to another woman like this since . . . since Jacqui died. Okay, that reminder worked better than any cold shower.
You can’t let yourself feel anything for her.
“Yes, you’re right. I’ll do that.”
Right. Fuck. Shit. He should leave. Let her get ready for bed. He walked out, turning back at the door. “Need anything?”
“N-no. I’m fine. Thank you.”
She didn’t sound fine. She sounded lost and alone. And he hated it. He wanted that smile back on her face. That carefree way she approached everything and everyone. As though she’d never met anyone she couldn’t charm.
“Sleep in tomorrow. Don’t want you up before nine.” He walked out into the hallway before he could say anything he might regret.
Like . . . come sleep with me.
He strode into the master suite after checking that the house was secure. The master suite was much the same as the room he’d put her in. Utilitarian. Boring. He didn’t care. He only used this room to sleep in. But the whole house was like this.
Maybe he should have let her go stay with Damon. His house was easily four times the size. Luxurious. And even more secure. He had several armed guards roaming the grounds and inside the house.
Spike ground his teeth together at the thought of her with Steele and Grady. He just hadn’t been able to stomach it.
Stripping off his clothes, he chucked them in the dirty laundry and made his way into the attached bathroom. He turned the water on and climbed in while it was still cold.
Unfortunately, it did nothing for his raging hard-on. Leaning one hand against the shower wall, the water cascading down his back, he took hold of his dick, running his hand up and down the length.