Then they were both bucking, plunging, her hands grappling for purchase, his hips thrusting harder. Her eyes went blank and wild. He covered her mouth ruthlessly with his and swallowed her scream.
They were tangled together, like two boxers down for the count and gasping for air. He’d slid slightly down her body, and found that though her breast was handy to his lips, he didn’t have the energy to take advantage of it.
‘I can’t feel my toes,’ she realized. ‘Or my fingers. I think I broke something.’
It occurred to him that he was probably cutting off most of her air and her circulation. With an effort, he reversed their positions. ‘Better?’
She took a long, wheezing gulp of air. ‘I think.’
‘Did I hurt you?’
‘Huh?’
He tipped her head up and studied her foolish, blank-eyed grin. ‘Never mind. You finished with me yet?’
‘For the moment.’
‘Thank God.’ He dropped back down and concentrated on breathing.
‘Jesus, we’re a mess.’
‘Nothing like sticky, sweaty sex to remind you you’re human. Come on.’
‘Come on where?’
‘Darling.’ He skimmed a kiss over her damp shoulder. ‘You need a shower.’
‘I’m just going to sleep here for the next couple of days.’ She curled up, yawned. ‘You go ahead.’
He shook his head. Gathering his strength, he shoved her aside, got to his feet. After a deep breath, he reached down and hauled her up over his shoulder. ‘Oh sure, take advantage of a dead woman.’
‘Dead weight,’ he muttered and crossed the gym to the changing area. He shifted her more securely, then stepped onto
the tile. With a wicked grin, he turned around so that her face would encounter the full force of one of the crisscrossing sprays. ‘Sixty-three degrees, maximum spray.’
‘Sixty—’ It was all she had time for. The rest of her words were lost in screams and curses that echoed off the shining tiles.
She wasn’t dead weight now, but a wriggling, wet, desperate woman. He clamped down hard, roaring with laughter as she sputtered and swore at him.
‘Ninety-two,’ she shouted. ‘Ninety fucking two degrees. Now.’
When the spray pumped hot, she managed to catch her breath. ‘I’ll kill you, Roarke. The minute I thaw out.’
‘It’s good for you.’ He set her carefully on her feet and offered her the soap. ‘Clean up, Lieutenant. I’m starving.’
So was she. ‘I’ll kill you later,’ she decided. ‘After I eat.’
Within the hour, she was showered, satisfied, dressed, and attacking a two-inch sirloin. ‘You know, I’m only marrying you for sex and food.’
He sipped a deep red wine and watched her plow through the meal. ‘Of course.’
She nipped into a shoestring fry. ‘And because you have a beautiful face.’
Unruffled, he only grinned. ‘That’s what they all say.’
Those weren’t the reasons, but good sex, good food, and a beautiful face could certainly mellow a mood. She smiled at him. ‘How’s Mavis?’
He’d been waiting for her to ask, but he had known she’d needed to get something out of her system first. ‘She’s fine. She and Leonardo are having a kind of reunion in her suite tonight. You can talk to them in the morning.’