And he would find out, no question. Once he accompanied her to Sean’s fictional apartment and fictional workplace, he’d realize she’d made both addresses up. If she wanted to keep what Sean had done from Brett, she needed to ditch her protector.
She glanced at the keys and tossed the sheets and comforter aside, ready to jam her feet into her shoes, grab the keys, her purse, her suitcase, and flee. No time to change clothes, but she was wearing a sleep shirt and pair of shorts, which was decent enough.
Her brilliant plan was foiled by the bathroom door opening and her sudden realization that the shower had stopped running.
She’d lost her window.
Brett’s eyes fell on her as the door opened, and he stopped in the middle of the doorway. Thank God he hadn’t caught her with his keys in her hand. That would have been hard to explain.
His blue gaze skimmed her shirt-and-short-clad body before rising to her face and then skating away.
Had he noticed her pebbled nipples? Probably. SEALs noticed everything. Hopefully, he’d assign the reaction to the room’s chill…even though it wasn’t all that cold.
She tried not to notice how good he looked. That would only add to the pebbling. But damn it, he’d always looked sexy as hell stepping from the shower. That held true even now, with his clothes on. The goosebumps from before tickled her spine as she surreptitiously soaked him in. His brown hair was tousled and wet. His face freshly shaved. His eyes bright blue and clear.
When you added in the faded jeans and plain blue t-shirt stretched across his broad shoulders—her thoughts stumbled to a stop as she realized his attire was different than it had been the night before. Or at least the shirt was.
“Did Lucas bring you clothes?” The question was out before she could stop it, and a dead giveaway that she’d been staring at him.
Brett walked to the dresser and pocketed his keys and wallet. “I have a go bag in the truck.”
Of course he did. She’d forgotten about that emergency provision. With Brett, the duffel bag stowed behind the seat of his truck had been a constant reminder that he could be called away at a moment’s notice. Same with Mitch, although with him that realization had held hope. Hope that he’d lose his life in some foreign country and set her free.
“Do you want to shower before we leave?” he asked without looking at her.
“Sure.” Not that she needed one. She’d showered before climbing in bed the night before. Still, it would take multiple soaks to wash the memory of the kidnapper’s hovel or that hourly motel from her skin.
Plus, it would give her something to do besides gawking at him.
Her heart pounding faster than it had any reason to, she grabbed her suitcase and dragged it over to the bed. Before she could lift it, Brett brushed her aside. His scent hit her as he leaned in. He smelled the same as she remembered. Like soap and shampoo and warm skin. Brett never used aftershave or cologne. Just good old-fashioned soap and shampoo—which somehow added to his appeal.
That scent had burned itself into her brain. For days after she’d pushed him out of her life, she’d slept with an old t-shirt he’d left behind. For the first time ever, she’d taken comfort in a piece of unwashed clothing. When the scent finally faded, she’d grieved for days.
That was also the last time she’d cried. As if his loss had penetrated so deep, tears wouldn’t release the pain.
She stepped back, watching him lift her heavy suitcase onto the bed with no effort whatsoever. He’d used to lift her like that. Like she weighed next to nothing. There was something so sexy about that kind of power. That kind of strength. About the feel of hard, muscled arms wrapped around you.
When throbbing joined the dampness between her legs, she put the brake on those memories. At this rate, she was going to need a cold shower, rather than a hot one.
She took another step back and prayed the thin shirt hid her tight nipples, which were even tighter than before. A quick glance down proved that nope—it didn’t. Those prominent little buds were very noticeable. And he’d notice…of course he would. The damn man noticed everything.
Sure enough, his gaze zeroed in on her chest. For a second it looked like the blue eyes heated, started to blaze, but then he turned away.