Smoked (The Invincibles 5)

“I’d love it. Thank you.”

“I’m afraid this is all you can have until after your scan.”

“I’m not hungry anyway.” The anxiety over what I might learn today about my memory left me with no appetite.

One thing the doctor had said during our meeting the day before was that I didn’t have to be on the IV any longer, nor was pain medication necessary unless I felt as though I needed it. That, along with the antibiotics I’d been given intravenously, I could now take in pill form.

I picked up the steaming cup from the counter with my left hand and then immediately set it back down. My mobility on the left side of my body had improved steadily to the point where I often forgot it wasn’t functioning normally. That my hand shook while I held boiling-hot liquid was a quick reminder that I was still suffering from more than memory loss.

“She’s not to have anything to eat or drink,” said Smoke, coming out of the bedroom, looking both disheveled and sexy as hell.

Maureen pointed to a piece of paper on the kitchen counter. “She is permitted clear liquids.”

He nodded and then set about making coffee. Again, the aroma of it brewing stirred something inside me, but I couldn’t pull the memory forward enough to know what it was about.

“I like coffee.”

Smoke turned to me and smiled. “You do.”

“More than tea?” I asked.

“Not that you’d admit.”

“May I have some?”

He shook his head. “You like it with cream.”

Instead of showering, I took a bath in the tub that was more luxurious looking than the rest of the house. Whoever owned it had left bath salts that smelled of lavender. I sunk into the warm water and closed my eyes. Again, the smell evoked something I could feel but not see.

It seemed as though scents stirred my memory over anything else. Just not enough for me to picture the reminiscence.

I heard a rap at the door. “Come in,” I said, putting my arm across my chest to cover my breasts. I moved it when Smoke walked over and sat on the edge of the built-in tub.

“That looks very relaxing.”

“There’s room for two,” I said, winking.

“Maybe two people the size of you, but if I got in, it would overflow.”

I reached forward and pulled the plug. “That’s easily solved.”

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Hurry before I get cold.”

Smoke reached behind him and pulled his shirt over his head and then lowered his joggers to the floor. Seeing his arousal stirred my own.

He settled behind me, and I closed the stopper when the water level was low enough that overflowing was no longer a threat. When I leaned back into him, Smoke put his arms around my waist.

“You have the most beautiful hair,” he murmured, kissing the side of my head where the wrapped bandages covered what was now only stubble.

“Do I?”

I felt him nod. “It’s inky black with waves that cascade onto your shoulders.” He kissed my shoulder. “Your skin is like alabaster, and your eyes…”

“What about my eyes?”

“They can freeze a man’s soul.”