Mal wandered over and grinned broadly. It was of Audrey crossing a marathon finish line, arms raised in victory over her head, laughing at the camera.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been prouder of her than I was that day.”
Mal could hear that big-brother pride in his voice, and her smile softened. She turned to look at Hunter for a moment, then walked over and wrapped her arms around his waist.
He smiled in surprise, but returned the gesture, cocking his head at her. “What’s this for?” he asked.
She shrugged. “You’re cute.”
His smile turned warmer, and her toes curled in her socks. “I thought I was overprotective and a worrier and way too nosy.”
She tugged him closer, feeling her cheeks heat. “You are. But you’re also cute, and I like you.”
His eyes darkened, his smile faded, and something about his soaking wet hair and skin and clothes made him smell even better than normal, the scent filling her lungs and seeping through her skin. He put one hand under her chin and slowly tipped her face up. “I like you, too,” he murmured, his voice almost a growl.
Mal inhaled slowly, her lips parting all on their own, and Hunter took advantage of it, grazing his lips along hers. Once, twice, three times, he passed over, barely touching, but enough to drive her crazy. She moved her head to brush their noses, letting her lips fall against his, catching his bottom lip between hers for a moment.
Hunter’s hand shifted, and he cupped her jaw, sealing his lips more firmly over hers, somehow wringing a more exquisite response from her than their little closet venture had, though the two could not have been more different. That had been frantic and passionate and heady.
This was slow and gentle and filled with tension, emotion, restraint…
This… this was a maddening, grazing, hardly-able-to-breathe, toe-tingling, stomach-curling onslaught that was heating her from the inside out and draining her of thought and sense and everything in the world but him.
This, she could get used to.
Assuming she lived through it.
After another gentle, teasing brush of his lips, Hunter broke off with a hint of a despairing groan. “Okay,” he rumbled, sounding punch-drunk as he stepped away from her. “I gotta get out of here. Shower and get changed; Audrey has clothes that should fit you.”
“Okay,” Mal replied, sighing more than speaking, dazedly looking him over and wondering how in the world she had this man at her fingertips.
Hunter stepped back farther, reading her thoughts with far too much insight. “Stop looking at me like that,” he warned, his voice strained. “I gotta get out of here.”
Mal smiled knowingly. “You said that already.”
“It bears repeating. Just… stop.” He held out a hand as if he could actually stop her, then he turned and headed out the door, glancing over his shoulder at her again. She caught the flash of heat and hunger there, and she shivered. Yeah, it was probably best that he left.
Things were getting a bit toasty.
She finally looked down at herself and threw her hands in the air. She was a drowned rat. He should have forced her up here instead of indulging her desire to see the house. She hurried over to the bathroom, quickly stripped down, and jumped into the pristine marble shower, trying to ignore the perfect water pressure and thoughts of how much it cost to have such a room.
She’d always been fast in the shower, and this time was no exception. While the water was soothing and just the right temperature, she’d never seen the point in taking forever and found little relaxation in hygiene. Her grandfather used to joke that she never actually washed anything, just got wet and got back out. Somehow, he always managed to sound impressed when he said that.
Wrapping herself in a perfectly thick towel, Mal got out of the shower and padded over to the moderately sized closet, instantly liking Audrey for her taste in clothing alone. It was simple, fashionable, and good quality, without any of the ostentation Mal would have expected from a girl of her fortune. She probably looked like a model in these things. But then, she was related to Hunter. He knew how to dress and never looked anything less than perfect.
Audrey in real life would probably terrify her, and then quickly become a girl she could laugh over coffee with.
Mal grabbed the most inexpensive clothing she could find, settling on a pair of dark-wash jeans, a long T-shirt, and an oversized sweater. She glanced in a basket just inside the closet door and grinned at the collection of fuzzy socks.
Yep, Audrey was on her good list.
She heard some noises coming from the floor below and tiptoed out of the room to the landing, rubbing her hair in the towel. Hunter was still in his wet clothes, but he’d taken his jacket off. The fire was now built up and roaring in the fireplace, and he was rearranging furniture of all things. The massive and comfortable-looking couch was now pulled in front of the fire, and he was moving the chairs that had been there somewhere else.
Mal bit her lip and smiled as she watched him, taking pointed pleasure in watching that man work in clothing that clung to him. She wasn’t usually so fascinated by a guy’s physique, but none of her past relationships had involved someone so spectacularly formed. There was something graceful in the way he moved, his muscles coiling and uncoiling with just the right amount of artistry and magnetism. He was a masterpiece in and of himself, just as he was, and she suddenly wanted to send his mother a fruit basket or flowers or a convertible.
He stood, put his hands on his hips, and nodded once, then started for the stairs, never once looking up. Mal scurried back into Audrey’s room, hung the towel up, and waited until she heard him walk by. Then she poked her head out and watched him walk into the room at the end, pulling his T-shirt over his head with both arms.
She nearly swallowed her tongue as she caught sight of his back, even more perfectly sculpted than she’d thought it would be. She would have to remember that she was a back kind of girl. She hadn’t known that before this.