She hesitated, searching for an answer, for an attitude, that would make this awkward afterward easiest for both of them. "Hmm. Let's see." She pursed her lips, as if casting her mind back.
"Kitty - "
"Now I remember," she said hastily, keeping her voice light. Uncaring. "You talked me into trying out my Wilder genes and taking off my blue ones. Then we had sex. I liked it."
"That part I know," he said, his voice tight. "But I want the complete truth about why I came to be the one to ... deflower you."
The burning rose. Kitty clamped her thighs tight against another betraying shiver. "I already explained that too."
He rolled onto his side to face her. "Indulge me with the details, please."
"Fine." She drew her knees up to her chest. "That night, eight years ago, I drank too much beer. The next morning I woke up in your bed wearing your T-shirt and nothing else. I had a hangover, of course, and every inch of me throbbed from my toenails to the crown of my head." But now that she'd really made love with him, she knew that kind of throbbing was entirely different. "The last thing I remembered was marrying you, so naturally I concluded we'd ... shared a wedding night."
"'Naturally'? Jesus Christ, Kitty." He scowled. "What kind of man did you think I was? When I figured out how drunk you were, I tried to sober you up with a cold shower. For the record, you decided to strip out of your wet clothes and then you promptly passed out on my bed."
He rolled onto his back again. "I sure as hell didn't take advantage of your condition. Even if I hadn't realized you were drunk and I had gone to bed with you, you can't have seriously thought I would have left town without saying anything to you."
Kitty shrugged. "Why not?"
He turned his head to look at her. "Because ... because ... hell, Kitty, because that's not what a man should do."
"It's what men have always done to Wilder women."
He blinked. "Fuck."
"Well, of course, that too," she said flippantly.
With another curse, he squeezed shut his eyes. "I don't like this."
She sighed in relief. "Me neither. So why don't we stop the post-game analysis and get dressed." She scooted toward the edge of the mattress.
His hand clamped down on her shoulder. "We're not leaving the bed until we get this straightened out."
She tried wiggling away from his hand. "There's no tangle in my mind."
He tightened his grip. "If you move one more inch, I'm going to flay you alive."
Didn't he know he already had? Her stomach flipped over in panic. If he went any deeper, her heart would be exposed, and she couldn't survive that. "Please, Dylan. I need to ... to shower."
His hand on her shoulder didn't move. Any second now he'd detect the embarrassing, goose-bumping, sexual reaction his flesh against hers was detonating. She licked her lips. "Just a few minutes alone in the bathroom. At a time like this, a woman could use a little, um, privacy."
In an instant his fingers moved to her chin and tilted it up. "You are hurt." His gaze roamed her face.
"No. Not really." Not in the way he thought anyhow.
"Let me see." He grabbed the sheet as if to push it down.
Kitty clutched it to her breasts. "No!"
He gave her an impatient look. "I'm an FBI agent."
She stared at him, not daring to relax her grasp on the sheet. "Give me a break, Dylan. FBI file or no, I really don't think my private parts fall under the federal government's jurisdiction."
"Honey, I hate to break it to you, but your private parts fall under my jurisdiction now," he said grimly. "And I meant that I'm trained in first aid."
"Me, too," she countered. "I know it all. Direct pressure, tourniquets, the whole shebang."
He lifted an eyebrow. "Promise me you don't think a tourniquet is necessary."
She glared at him. "Only on your private part, unless you let me out of this bed."
The corner of his mouth twitched, but his hold on her shoulder loosened. "You're scaring me, babe."
"Close your eyes." She slid one leg over the edge of the mattress.
"What?"
"Close your eyes so I can get to the bathroom."
"I've already seen everything." He looked amused.
She squinted at him. "Tourniquet." Laughing softly now, he finally obeyed.
She dashed for the door. He wolf-whistled just as she reached it.