“Take your clothes off, Wife,” Trace said firmly, as he waited for his order to be obeyed.
She opened her mouth and made a choking sound as her eyes widened and-
She crumbled to the floor.
Again.
For a moment, Trace simply stood there, staring down at the woman that he’d claimed for his own and couldn’t help but frown. She was weak, Trace thought with disgust as he shoved the remains of his clothes off before he focused his attention on the woman that should by all rights be dead. How she’d survived this long without a man in her life, he would never know because clearly, she needed a man to take her in hand.
With that in mind, he picked her up and carried her the short distance to the “shower” and placed her inside, uncaring that she was still clothed. When she came awake sputtering, he simply ignored her and stepped inside, giving her no choice but to back up. Once he was inside the shower, he closed his eyes and let the hot water hit him, groaning as the heat seeped into his newly formed muscles.
During his time in that tomb, he’d dreamed about a lot of things, but never once had he dreamed of something like this. He was content to stand there forever, but the small woman that he’d decided to keep apparently had other ideas. Not bothering to open his eyes, he said, “Soap.”
The small woman currently trying to quietly make her escape stopped mid-crawl behind him. For a long moment, she didn’t do anything and neither did he as he listened to the frantic beat of her heart as the scent that he was quickly identifying as fear rolled off her. He waited to see what she would do, deciding to give her a chance to do something foolish so that he could clear up any misunderstandings that she might have so that they could quickly come to an understanding.
When she cleared her throat a bit awkwardly and stood up behind him, he was almost disappointed. Then again, what else should he have expected from her? She was weak, but at least she knew it.
“Here,” she whispered as he felt something hard pressed into his hand.
“What’s this?” he asked, opening his eyes to stare down at the small green square in his hand.
“Soap,” she said, making him frown as he raised the square to his nose and drew in its scent.
“There’s a toothbrush and toothpaste to your left that you can use as well as the shampoo and conditioner,” she said as he handed her back the soap so that he could inspect the items lining the small shelf.
He picked up the small brush and started to examine it only to have it plucked from his hand. He watched as the small woman trying to look
anywhere but at him grabbed a small tube and squeezed a blue substance on the bristles before handing it back to him. When he only frowned down at the brush, she sighed heavily, took it back from him and said, “Open up.”
When he hesitated, she opened her mouth, bared her teeth and made a brushing motion with the brush before gesturing back to him. “It will help with the copper morning breath you’ve got going on,” she said, before groaning and muttering to herself, “Don’t poke the bear.”
Curious, Trace took it from her, raised it to his teeth and slowly copied her movements. Nodding approvingly, she said, “See? Easy, right? So, it looks like you’re good here at the moment. Why don’t I go see about getting us some fresh towels?”
When she moved to leave, he said, “Soap.”
Shoulders sagging, she picked up the green bar back from the small ledge where she’d placed it and held it out to him with a hopeful smile that he ignored.
“Scrub,” he said around the small mint-flavored brush, giving her his back as he continued awkwardly brushing his teeth and savoring the crisp flavor.
“Umm, wouldn’t you like some privacy?” she asked after a slight hesitation.
“No.”
There was a small sigh, and then, “That’s what I thought.”
*-*-*-*
No sudden movements, Samantha chanted to herself as she added more conditioner than was probably necessary to the mess that she’d created on top of his head as she did her best not to think about the fact that he was capable of tearing grown men apart with his bare hands. When the reminder made it difficult for her to take her next breath, she decided to think of something else.
As she carefully ran her fingers through the tangled mess, she couldn’t help but wonder what he was going to end up looking like once she finished scrubbing all this grime off. Thanks to the forty-five minutes that she’d spent scrubbing his back, arms, and legs, she knew that his body was flawless. There wasn’t a single scar, tattoo, bruise, scrape, or anything that would clue her into his past. However, the fact that he hadn’t made her wash his man bits and ass gave her hope that he wasn’t going to be expecting any husbandly benefits from this terrifying situation.
It also made her wonder if she’d imagined everything.
It was possible, Samantha mused as she stopped scrubbing his head to touch the tender spot on the back of hers only to come to the conclusion that it had definitely happened when he growled a warning that had her quickly returning her attention to the soapy mess that she’d created. While she stood there, stretching up on her tippy toes in order to reach the top of his head and trying to buy herself some time, she tried to think of a way out of this.
What would Nathan do? Samantha wondered as she looked around the old bathtub, noting everything within reach only to shift her attention to all that conditioner that she was currently working into his scalp as an idea hit her, an idea that she wasn’t sure would work, but…
It was really all she had at the moment.