Heaving out of the water, I stepped onto the soft bathmat, sloppily wrapped a towel around myself, and tried to decide whether my weak legs would make it all the way back to the bed.
“Ezra?” I called hesitantly.
He was through the door in an instant. “Should I get Elisabetta?”
“No, no.” I forced a laugh. “I’m just pathetically tired.”
“Pathetically?”
“Yeah, I mean, you’d think I could walk across a room—”
He slid his arm around my waist and tugged me closer. Pressing his hand to my cheek, he tilted my face up. “Tori, it’s okay.”
I blinked in confusion.
“You were attacked. You were hurt. You almost died. Don’t pretend that didn’t happen.”
“I’m not—”
He leaned down, bringing our faces closer. “You don’t have to be strong right now.”
My mouth opened and closed, and that storm of emotions I’d been stuffing deep down since waking up post-stabbing stirred insistently. “N-no, I don’t—”
“Do you remember what you told me when I hid my insomnia? You said, ‘Don’t try to be so strong all by yourself.’”
My breath caught in my throat—and my eyes stung.
He tucked me against his chest, and the warmth of his encircling arms spoke for him: I’m here.
The soft but unyielding resolution in his eyes spoke too. I’ll be strong.
His steady heartbeat under my hand where it rested on his chest murmured, I’ll protect you.
My mouth trembled. Tears spilled over, running down my cheeks.
He held me close, arms tight, one hand tangling in my wet hair. I clutched his shirt as emotions welled up inside me—fear and dread and weakness and vulnerability. So much vulnerability. I hated that feeling. Hated feeling like I was a victim. Hated feeling so defenseless.
That mythic had come at me from nowhere. I’d been happy. Laughing. Delighted that Justin wanted to visit my guild.
And then I’d been dying. The cult wanted me dead, and they’d almost succeeded. They’d keep trying until they accomplished their goal, and I would never know where the next attempt would come from.
I buried my face in Ezra’s chest, shaking with sobs. I’d almost died. Almost died. So close to the end. To nothingness. To no longer being a person, only a memory in the hearts of those left behind.
I dragged my head up. Ezra gazed down at me as my hand slid up his chest, along his neck, and curled into his hair.
Before I could pull his head down, he was kissing me.
I clamped my mouth against his, kissing him back with equal ferocity. All my fear and helplessness fled as fire ignited in my blood. My arms were around his neck, both hands fisted in his hair. His arms held me against him, fierce but gentle.
Tilting my head, I opened my mouth for him and his tongue found mine. Fatigue forgotten, I pressed into him. My flimsy towel caught between us, the fluffy cotton rubbing against my bare skin as it slid down. His breath rushing out, he grabbed the back of the towel, the muscles in his arms bunching as he held it in place.
“Tori,” he rasped. “You should be in bed.”
“Only if you get in with me.”
He stifled a groan. I arched into him, cold air finding my skin as one edge of my towel dropped, exposing my naked side.
Catching the towel’s end, he swept it back around me—then scooped me off my feet. He strode out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. The sight of medical equipment tucked in the corner only slightly cooled my libido.
He set me on the bed, then flipped the blankets over me and my askew towel. Marching back into the bathroom, he returned with another towel and dropped it over my wet hair.
“Dry off,” he told me. “Then get some sleep.”
I pushed the towel up so I could see him. “I’m not tired.”
“You looked ready to fall over a moment ago.”
“Well, now I’m horizontal, so it’s all good.”
He choked on a laugh.
Pushing the towel off my head, I reached for him. He leaned down and our mouths met again. Soft, gentle, deep. A fire stoked by more than lust.
Slow, delicious heat unfurled in my center. My fingers curled around his wrist. Without breaking our kiss, I drew his hand downward. His warm fingers slid over my neck, trailing through droplets of cold water from the bath. Along my shoulder, tracing my collarbone.
I guided his hand farther down. Under the blanket. Pushing the towel aside.
He crushed his mouth against mine, breath rushing through his nose. I arched up into his palm—then his other hand was under the covers too. Sliding over my bare skin, tracing my curves. The bed dipped as he put his knee on the mattress.
I got my fingers back into his hair, holding his mouth to mine, not letting him pull away even for an instant. I would allow my own hands to wander later. Right now, I wanted him touching me. I wanted his hands on my body, exploring and teasing. Heat built in me, and the room spun as I sucked in air.
Uh, actually … the room was really spinning.
He pulled back, took one look at me, and muttered a curse under his breath. “I knew you should be sleeping.”
I caught his wrists as he withdrew his hands. “Nuh-uh. I’m good. Just needed a breather.”
“Nice try.” He tugged his arms free, then pulled the blanket up to my chin. “I should’ve been on my guard against your seductress ways.”
“Excuse me?”
“Luring me into your hospital bed.” He shook his head, somber deadpan in full force. “Just think how I’d feel if you passed out while I was kissing you.”
“To be frank, Ezra …” I arched an eyebrow. “I was luring you in for a lot more than mere kissing.”
“Duplicitous,” he intoned.
I laughed, and his grin flashed, its appearance stealing the air from my lungs. His smile was already sexy enough, but add in the faint flush in his cheeks
