Good God.

I fled the bathroom, and Maggie closed the door behind me with a definitive click. My hands were shaking, and a thin layer of sweat covered my forehead. I had to get myself under control.

She was beautiful—absolutely breathtakingly beautiful. Her body was soft and supple in my hands. Her skin, even dirty and covered in blood, was a porcelain white so translucent I could see blue veins just under the surface. It took all my control not to run my fingers down the length of her spine, to brush the hair from her neck.

Stop it! I needed to work, to focus on the job and regain my objectivity. Maggie’s life depended on it. Still, my mind conjured visions of her naked, standing under the stream of water, warm drops running down her bare skin.

I stood in the middle of the living room, feeling my pulse thump rapidly in my neck. I had to get busy thinking about something else, so I turned and exited the house. It took three trips to haul everything in from the car, but when I finally finished, a small mountain of gear sat in the middle of the living room, and my mind was back to work.

Ben and Leo had done well. There was a selection of clothing for each of us, several weeks’ worth of non-perishable food, enough equipment for me to set up a small communication center, and plenty of firepower. They’d even packed my favorite sniper rifle.

“There she is!” I pulled the case over to me, pulled the zipper open, and flipped back the cover. I ran my loving hand along the jet black barrel and down the stock, reveling in the strength and power at my fingertips. I always knew where I stood with this weapon, and I never said the wrong thing to it. My rifle responded unfailingly and unflinchingly to my every request—always. It never abandoned me or let me down.

“Liam?” I heard her hesitant call. “Can you come here for a moment?”

“Yeah! Be right there!” I reached down and rubbed my right leg before dragging myself down the hall to the call of duty. At the door, I set my hand on the knob and paused. Focus on the job! With a heavy breath, I turned the handle, and a thick cloud of steam rolled out and over me.

Maggie sat on the stone bench in the shower, half hidden by the frosted glass. “Can you wash my hair, please?”

Damn it. There was nothing I wanted to do less… or more. The blurry vision of her body through the glass was magnetic. Even if I could have refused her, I couldn’t have refused myself. As I stepped toward the shower, I could almost hear my reservations. Washing a woman’s hair is an intimate experience! It’s bigger than sex! Still, I came to her aid.

She on the bench, leaning her good shoulder against me as I used the hand held shower head to wet her long red hair. The water ran copper down her back and across the tiles to the shower drain as it washed the dried blood away. My fingers gently combed through it, working the coconut-scented shampoo down to her scalp and along the length of her curls, careful to keep the bubbles away from her wound.

She made little grunting noises as I massaged her scalp, and I bit my cheek to keep my sanity. “I… uh… I think it’s clean.” I let the water drip from my fingers, and stepped back from her.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I think I can do the rest.”

I beat a hasty retreat, hiding my physical reaction to her naked warmth. This is not a woman I want to get involved with. I reminded myself that Maggie was hot headed and didn’t listen. Up until the bullet in her shoulder, she had been determined to get herself killed. She was a job—a difficult, stubborn, sweet-smelling job.

I needed to get online, hit the dark web, and start figuring out who was trying to kill her. I had no time to waste on a spoiled little rich girl when there were so many others in the world that really need my unique brand of help. You’re only here as a personal favor to Mason. I could keep myself together if I remembered that.

Maggie emerged from the bathroom almost an hour later, clean and coconut-scented. Her face was rosy, flushed from the heat. She’d wrapped a towel around her body and another around her hair, an amazing accomplishment with only one good arm.

My computers hummed merrily, blinking and beeping at me from my newly-assembled command center. Ben had pulled out all the stops, sending me three monitors and an encrypted high-speed satellite connection. It was perfect for our remote location.

“Liam?”

Tearing my eyes away from Ben’s most recent message detailing the damages left by yet another attack on Maggie’s trailer, I looked at her over the top of my reading glasses. “Yes?”

“Where am I sleeping?” She stood barefoot in the doorway, practically swaying on her feet. “I really need a bed.”

Her hot shower had relaxd her, and she yawned beneath droopy eyes that were ringed in dark circles. Her bandage was damp at the edges, but looked intact. I needed to check it again, but that could wait until the morning. She needed sleep to heal.

I jumped up from my chair, pulling the glasses off and dropping them on the keyboard. “Yeah. You can have the master. It’s right over here.” I led her down to the last room off the hall. Double doors opened to another glass wall, which looked east to the mountains. A king sized bed dominated the space with a small sitting area and his and hers closets.

“God, I’m so tired.” She fell into the bed, nearly asleep before her head hit the pillow. I stood there, looking down at her and wondering what to do. Then I lifted her legs up and tucked them under the covers. I pulled the damp towel from her hair and carefully unwrapped the other from around her body. Softly, I pulled the covers over her and left on silent feet.

I awoke to pain. White hot lightning bolts shot through my body and brought tears to my eyes. “Mother fucking asshole son of donkey rat bastards!” I shrieked, trying to work through the agony. Everything hurt.

“Good morning to you too!” Liam stood in the doorway, staring at me with a cup of steaming coffee in each hand.

I clutched the sheet to my chin with my one good arm. “My shoulder is on fire!”

He chuckled as he walked toward me and set one thick crockery mug on the nightstand. “Let me take a look. I probably need to change the bandage. You don’t want it to get infected.”

“Don’t touch me.” I tried to inch away, but my shoulder screamed in protest the instant I moved.

He looked around. “You see anyone else who can do it?”

“No.” I glared at him. God, he was an annoying man. He had all the answers, was always telling me what to do.

“Okay, then. Come on.” He waved a hand at me. “Drop the sheet and let me see.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Seriously, I just need to see your shoulder. We’ll find you some clothes after that.”

I scowled, but slowly released the sheet. Liam removed the big bandage, peeling it up to expose the inflamed wound. The edges were crusty and ragged. A clear liquid seeped from the center, and the area around it was bruised and hot to the touch.

“Shit. I was afraid of that.” He gently felt around the edges. “It’s getting infected. I’ll be right back.” He stood up and walked out of the room, leaving me naked on the bed with a hole in my shoulder.

Seconds later, he returned with a big canvas bag. “You need antibiotics.” He sat on the edge of the bed and dug through his supplies. “Here, take these.” He helped me sit up, and I scooted back to lean against the headboard. “You’re not allergic to anything, are you?”

“No.” I swallowed the two pills with a glorious first sip of coffee. My mouth tasted like a sewer, and my teeth were fuzzy. The coffee hid my dragon breath, I hoped.

“You want pain meds?” the crazy man asked. He really was insane. The whole thing was nuts—the stalker, the cabin in the woods, the friggin gun shot in my shoulder, the madman in black cargo pants. What has happened to my life?

“Absofuckinglootely.” I demanded between sips of hot coffee, my palm extended.

“Hah! Here.” He handed me two round white pills, which I downed immediately, not caring that I burned my tongue. “Keep drinking the coffee. I’m going to put a clean bandage on front and back. You’re lucky it went all the way through and didn’t hit anything important.”

“My shoulder is important.”

“Less than you’d think,” he said.

“That’s a big hole.” I looked down as he worked. “Should you stitch it up or something?”

“I don’t think so. You want it to heal from the inside out. We need to let it drain.” I sipped my coffee quietly while he squeezed something into the hole and then taped new gauze pads on. “That should do it. We’ll check it twice a day. You ready to get up?”

“Yes, please.” I hated that I was dependent on him. I was a success in a cut-throat industry. I made my own decisions, and I worked damn hard to rise above my competition. Being reduced to an injured, clingy female hurt my sensibilities. No matter how cute his butt was, I just wanted to go back to the life I’d worked so hard for. I just wanted him go away and leave me alone.

I needed to talk to Julie. She would know what to do. I couldn’t even imagine how mad she was about what this would do to the tour. She had worked damned hard to get me where I was, and there I went and fucked things up again.