“No, of course not.” The return of his dry humor relaxed her curled fingers. “You were frozen. I haven’t done anything but run this bath and put you in it.”
“I’m thawed now.” Urgency nipped at her. “The sun will rise soon. At least, I think so. I don’t know how long I was lying there—” She ignored his prickly growl. “Like I said, I can’t lift my arms. Cleaning up a pile of dead vampire dust would be bothersome. Go fix the windows.”
“You’re coming with me.” Before she could protest, Elias stood, holding Roksana in his arms, and with her head lolling against his shoulder, she got the first look at his face since waking up. He was paler than usual, lines of strain bracketing his mouth, but even in the muted light, she could see his pupils expand like drops of black ink when their gazes met. “You can’t keep yourself afloat. Fishing a drowned slayer from the bottom of the tub would be bothersome,” he said, the words barely audible, his Adam’s apple lifting and plummeting. “You lied to me about your flight time, Roksana. Your heart barely skipped a beat doing it.”
“It won’t be the last time I lie to you.” The sound of water dripping from their clothing was the only sound in the small bathroom. That and her rapid-fire pulse, which he could definitely hear, could always hear, but rarely admitted it out loud. “Did you really come here to repay a favor, Elias?”
“Yes.” He stepped out of the tub. “And that probably won’t be the last time I lie to you, either.”
She was still deciphering that cryptic statement when they entered the empty flat. Heat rattled in through a wrought-iron gate in the corner, blowing around dust bunnies. Old pots and pans lay forgotten on the counters. Apart from a full-size bed in the corner, there was no furniture. “Homey,” she muttered.
“I was short on choices.” He advanced toward the bed, his gait purposeful. “We need to get you out of these wet clothes. I didn’t come to your rescue just to have you die of pneumonia.”
As much as she wanted to argue, Roksana had to agree that getting out of her wet clothing sounded heavenly. Already the soaked material was beginning to cool and goose bumps formed on her skin. The weight of the sodden clothing alone was agony on her sore muscles. “How are we going to do this without you bearing witness to my breathtaking nakedness?”
His silence was strained. “Can you stand?”
“I have to go on a quest in two days’ time,” she said, pressure settling on her chest. “If I can’t stand, I better start learning how to fly.”
Elias’s frame tensed. “Say more about the quest.”
“One thing at a time, temnota mo—” Alarmed by her near slipup, she patted him on the shoulder harder than intended. “Put me down.”
He did as she asked, slowly, keeping her steady with an arm around her waist. When she glanced back at him over her shoulder, to see if he’d noticed the nickname, he only regarded her with grave eyes and a stiff upper lip. “I’m going to take this old sheet off the bed and wrap it around you,” he said, his gaze never leaving her as he stripped off his own drenched shirt, letting it slap down to the floor without a smidgen of self-consciousness.
Warrior.
That single word whispered through her mind. This was her first time seeing his naked torso, and man alive, he was a sight. Of course he was engraved with muscle, deep grooves forming a V starting at the tops of his hips and disappearing into his pants. A generous patch of black chest hair, flat brown nipples on either side. Lethal arms cut with brawn and decorated in ink. A puckered knife scar bisected his abdomen.
Souvenirs of his past life? The skin beneath his clothes must be paler than the first time she’d met him, but it could be no less rugged. Male. Elias.
How could someone who pulsed with such vitality have no pulse?
“You need a minute, Roks?”
Her tummy flipped. He rarely shortened her name, but the raspy intimacy of it never failed to jump-start her libido. “I’m merely sizing up an opponent.” She faced forward again before he could see her blush. “Don’t get it twisted.”
He scoffed lightly and crowded close once again, banding that strong arm around her waist. Keeping his hold in place, Elias leaned past her, whipping off the top white layer off the bed and shaking it out. Grateful he couldn’t see her face, Roksana let her eyes drift shut so she could heighten her sense of touch. Because my God. The ripple and swell of his pectorals against her back was incredible. Even in her injured state, she wasn’t immune to the flex and dip of his strength. His sinew. She could feel it all, even through her layer of wet clothing.