"No, you didn't. I came to the middle of nowhere for the simple joy of your company," I fire back.
Her brown eyes are on mine, stormy and stubborn. Then her chin wobbles and the fight drains out of her.
She drops her head, hiding her face behind a curtain of hair. "I'm sorry. I'm--- I wanted to take a bath. I thought I could make it, but I can't--- I couldn't---"
"No, you can't," I agree, already turning towards the bathroom. "But I can."
Her lips twist together nervously. I'm sure she's thinking what I'm thinking. Well, not exactly what I'm thinking---my thoughts have taken on a hot, gauzy quality all of a sudden.
But our minds are in the same general location: I'm going to see her naked.
I gave her a sponge bath when she was unconscious, cleaning her wounds through her clothes. Bu
