Snow and the Seven Men (Seven Ways to Sin 1)

We were the only two in the room, and I realized he’d probably been left there to keep an eye on me. I bit on my lower lip, trying to remember his name.

“Um…” I looked at him imploringly, and a timid smile broke out over his face.

He was such a cutie, his beam infectious like a small boy.

“Bash,” he reminded me. “I’m Bash.”

“Bash,” I agreed, exhaling. “Yes.”

“How are you feeling?” he asked, casting his book aside to approach. He kept a safe distance like he was afraid I might grab him and force him to snuggle me.

Idly, I wondered what he would do if I did.

You know what they say about still waters…

“I’m feeling much better, actually.” And it was true. The rest had restored a lot of my energy, and the dull throbbing in my leg wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been.

“Can I get you something?” Bash asked, seeming uncomfortable under my gaze.

“A phone?” I asked, hopefully. “My team is probably worried about me.”

Not that I believed that, but surely they’d be feeling some guilt about letting me go off by myself.

Although knowing Queenie, she’d probably spun it as me trying to make them worry. I could almost hear her voice now.

“Leave it to Sasha to stick it to us. She’s probably out in the snow, trying to teach us a lesson. Well, we’ll show her. We’ll let her freeze to death!”

I wondered if Hunter felt any remorse.

I pushed both of them out of my mind and looked at Bash expectantly.

Bash shook his head, his blue eyes wide and apologetic. “I’m sorry, Ms. Snow,” he said. “But the lines are all down.”

I grinned at him. “Sasha,” I told him. “Call me Sasha. And yeah, I guess I should have expected that.”

A part of me was relieved to know that. I didn’t want the odd little rescue to be over, not yet.

My eyes met Bash, and I was enveloped by the fuzzy feeling of the plaintive sweetness in his expression.

“I have an idea,” he said brightly, and I sat up to look at him, my black tresses falling along my shoulders.

I noticed his eyes travel toward my hair. “What’s that?”

“We have a super soaker here. Can I draw you a bath?”

I nodded eagerly. There wasn’t a bathtub at the research container, and given the battered state of my body, the idea almost gave me a sexual thrill. “I would love that!” I told him. My answer seemed to please him immensely, and he hurried out of the dorm.

“I’ll be right back,” he promised before disappearing. Slowly, I eased myself out of bed, noting that my earlier dizziness had faded completely, and I rose gingerly.

I’ve got this, I thought happily, hobbling toward the door cautiously. I can do this—

And then my legs gave out under my weight, and I crashed unceremoniously to the floor.

“Oh!” Bash cried, running back into the room. “What are you doing?”

“Sorry,” I muttered, horribly embarrassed. “I thought I could do it. I mean, I was walking around earlier without a problem.”

“You were still working off nervous energy. Your body needs to recover, Sasha. You can’t push it after such an ordeal.”

I smiled and struggled to rise, but Bash was on me protectively.

“I’ve got you.” With shockingly strong arms, he scooped me up and carried me as if I were weightless into the bathroom.

The tub was still running, filling up with an insurmountable number of bubbles, and the stone and chrome glistened against the dozen candles he’d lit. My breath was taken away by his consideration.

“You did all this?” I asked in awe, and he ducked his head, nodding.

“It’s no big deal,” he demurred, and I shook my head in disbelief.

“It is for me,” I replied quietly. “Thank you, Bash.”

He raised his eyes toward me and turned to leave, but I called out to stop him.

“Do…do you think you could help me a bit?” I asked, wondering where I’d gotten the urge to ask such a bold thing of him.

Instantly, he gazed at me, understanding lighting his eyes. “Of course,” he mumbled, closing the door behind him. Slowly, he moved toward me, and I let him unbutton the flannel pajama top, which I now knew belonged to Harry. A spark of excitement flashed through me as the garment fell to the floor and Bash’s eyes trailed over my full breasts.

“Pants, too?” he asked, his voice barely audible, and I swallowed, nodding as his long fingers hooked into the waistband, lowering the pajamas with my lace panties to the floor.

I stood naked before him, relishing the heat in my body as Bash took my hand and led me to the bathtub, which was almost full now.

“Keep your leg outside,” he instructed. “I don’t want the bandage to get wet.”

With his arm around my bare waist, I allowed him to drop me into the tub, his forearm flexing against my prickled skin.