Hollywood House Call

His phone vibrated in his pocket, but when he checked the caller ID and saw it was his Realtor, he shoved the cell back in. He wasn’t in the mood to hear another piddly offer on the house they were trying to sell. The other two offers were laughable; he wasn’t selling this home just to get rid of it and he sure as hell wasn’t selling it at a loss.

Malinda had chosen this Beverly Hills mansion when they’d decided to move in together. Noah had a home on the other side of town, but this was closer to where she was working as a personal shopper until she caught her “big break.” In love and naive, Noah agreed to move, but he loved his other house so much, he held on to it and rented it out.

He still had that home he could go to, but he just couldn’t say goodbye to the memories he and Malinda had made here…the happy ones.

Noah swallowed the lump of guilt that always settled in his throat when he thought of how he should’ve seen the signs of her abuse earlier. How he should’ve done something…anything. He was a doctor, for pity’s sake. His job was to fix people, but the one person he’d loved and had planned to spend his life with he had failed and she had paid the ultimate price.

“Noah?”

He jerked against the door and opened his eyes. “Yes?” he called back.

“Um, it’s hard to wash my hair with one hand.”

Oh, Lord. He was going to have to go back in there—where she was naked, wet and needy. Noah took a deep breath and shoved aside the man who had wanted Callie’s sexy body for months now and he slid his doctor persona into place.

You’re a professional, damn it. Act like one.

“Need help?” he asked, gritting his teeth.

“Please.”

One simple word. It meant so much and he knew she’d put her pride and dignity aside.

He eased the pocket door open and entered the steamy room.

“I’ll need another towel,” she explained. “I wanted to cover up so this wouldn’t be any weirder.”

He glanced her way and sure enough she had draped the large white bath towel across her. It was tucked beneath her armpits and floated down across her tanned thighs.

He knelt down beside the tub. “Just sit up a tad.”

Taking the shampoo bottle, he squeezed a generous amount into his palm and lathered his hands together. When he finally started rubbing his fingers through her long, silky strands, she moaned.

“God, it always feels so good when someone else washes your hair,” she said. “I can scrub and massage all day, but it’s just not the same at all.”

So had her previous boyfriends done this for her? If she was his, and this was the type of thankful reaction she gave, he’d sure as hell wash her hair every damn night.

“I actually tipped the shampoo guy at the salon two weeks ago even more than usual because he massaged my scalp longer.”

Noah felt like an idiot. Maybe she wasn’t talking about past boyfriends at all. Noah would pretend she was just discussing the salon and not potential foreplay with other men.

“Hang on, I’ll grab something to rinse it with.”

He came to his feet and shook off the suds into the tub. Beneath the vanity he found a small, plastic pitcher his cleaning lady always used to rinse the shower and tub when she cleaned. He squatted back down and dipped it into the water and began rinsing her hair. Time and time again he dipped and poured. He’d run his hand through her hair to see if he still saw suds, but even when they were long gone, he kept rinsing and running his hand through her long, crimson strands.

The way they splayed across her damp, bare back was sexy. The way she moaned the entire freaking time he washed her hair was sexy. And the fact she sat inches away from him totally naked was beyond sexy. Torturous was more the word. He’d never imagined if he ever got the chance to see Callie naked she’d be broken and battered and vulnerable. And in this tub alone.

“Um, Noah?” she peered over her shoulder at him. Water droplets clung to the edge of her thick, dark lashes. “It’s rinsed by now, isn’t it?”

He squeezed the pitcher in his hand, surprised it didn’t pop out and shoot across the room.

“Yeah,” he replied, his voice huskier than he would’ve liked. “It’s clean.”

Her eyes darted to his mouth, and she might as well have touched him below the belt with her bare hand because the effect was the same. He was hard in a second.

“Thanks,” she told him, her eyes locked onto his. “I can take it from here. But if you could get me a dry towel…”

A droplet of water slid down her forehead and Noah reached out and thumbed it away. But he didn’t remove his hand. He cupped her cheek and stroked her soft, dewy skin.