He had never been one to subscribe to the notion of fate, but it seemed pretty damned clear that one way or another this female was meant to cross his path.
Oh, yeah. Cross it like a black cat.
Just his luck that after centuries of dodging cosmic bullets and messy emotional entanglements, the twisted sisters of fate and reality would decide to put him on their shit lists at the same time.
"It's all right," he told Gabrielle, even though things were quickly progressing way south of that point. "Let's get you upstairs and dressed, then we'll talk." Before the continued sight of her in those flimsy scraps of lace and satin did him in.
Lucan gathered her into his arms, then carried her out of the darkroom and up the stairs to the main floor. Holding her this close, his keen senses registered the details of the sundry wounds she bore: raw scrapes on her hands and knees, evidence of a pretty vicious fall.
She had been running away from something - or someone - in terror when she had taken a spill. Lucan's blood boiled to know who had caused this harm, but there would be time for that soon. Gabrielle's comfort and well-being was his primary concern now.
Lucan walked with her through her living room, to the steps to her bedroom loft. His intent was to help her into some clothes, but as he passed the adjoining bathroom, he mentally flipped on the water. The two of them really needed to talk, and things probably would go down a bit easier for her after she'd had a warm soak.
With Gabrielle's arms wrapped around his shoulders, Lucan carried her into the bathroom. A small nightlight gave off an ambient glow, just enough illumination for his liking. He brought his languid armload over to the tub and seated himself on the edge, balancing Gabrielle in his lap.
He unsnapped the front closure on the wispy piece of satin, baring her breasts to his suddenly fevered eyes. His hands itched to touch her, so he did, brushing his fingertips along the buoyant curves, flicking his thumb over the dusky pink of her nipples.
God help him, the soft mewl of pleasure that curled up from her throat hardened his cock to painful degrees.
He skimmed his palm down her torso, to the matching scrap of glossy fabric that covered her sex. His hands were too large, too careless with the flimsy satin, but he somehow managed to peel the panties off and slide them down Gabrielle's long legs.
Blood surged through him like molten lava at the sight of her, nude before him once more.
Maybe he should feel guilty for finding her so incredibly desirable even in her current vulnerable state, but he wasn't much better at bowing to shame than he was at playing the nurturer. And he'd already proven to himself that trying to muster any kind of control around this particular female was a battle he might never win.
Next to the tub sat a bottle of liquid bubble bath. Lucan poured a generous dollop under the stream of running water. As the lather built, he carefully eased Gabrielle down into the warm bath. She moaned with clear appreciation as she sank into the foaming water, her limbs going visibly slack, her shoulders drooping against the towel Lucan quickly supplied as a cushion to keep her back from resting against cold tile and porcelain.
The small bathroom was filled with steam and Gabrielle's own faintly jasmine scent.
"Comfortable?" he asked her, as he shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it over the pedestal sink.
"Mmm," she moaned.
He couldn't resist putting his hands on her. With a gentle caress of her shoulder, he said, "Slide farther down and wet your hair. I'll wash it for you."
She obeyed, letting him guide her head under the water, then back up, her long ginger tresses darkened to a sleek auburn. She was silent for a long moment, then she slowly lifted her eyelids, smiling at him as if she had just come back to consciousness and was surprised to find him there. "Hi."
"Hi."
"What time is it?" she asked around a stretch and a stifled yawn.
Lucan shrugged. "Around eight, I guess."
Gabrielle sank back against the tub, closing her eyes with a moan.
"Bad day?"
"Not one of my best."
"So I gathered. Your hands and knees are a little worse for wear." Lucan reached over and turned off the water. He grabbed a tube of shampoo from nearby and squeezed some into his hands. "Wanna tell me what happened?"
"I'd rather not." A crease formed between her slim brows. "I did something stupid this afternoon. You'll hear all about it soon enough, I'm sure."
"How so?" Lucan asked, working up the lather in his palms.
As he massaged the thick foam into her scalp, Gabrielle opened one eye and slid him a sideways glance. "The kid from the station didn't say anything to anyone?"
"What kid?"