Page 24 of Gerard

She let go of the breath she’d been holding. “Yes, of course,” she said, cursing inwardly at how breathy she sounded. “Why do you ask?”

“As I walked up to you, you looked...scared.” His frown deepened. “I hope you’re not scared of me. I promise I would never hurt you.”

She pressed a hand to her throat, afraid he could see how swiftly her pulse was beating and that he would guess that his nearness was the cause.

“I’m not afraid of you,” she said, avoiding the truth. She was afraid of her body’s reaction to him. The man awakened something deep inside her that she thought had died with her husband.

Raw, searing, hot desire.

Like a heater turned up full blast, her body burned from the inside out, radiating heat from every pore, an inferno blazing at her core.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Gerard asked. “You look...”

Hot? Sex-starved? Desperate?

Sweet Jesus, she had to get a grip. “I look like I need a shower?” She forced a laugh. “Yes. I do. I think I’ll get that shower. Now.” She spun on her heels and marched her horny ass into the house, down the hallway, through the master bedroom and into the bathroom. After she closed the door, she turned and locked it. Not to keep him out but to keep her from begging him to join her.

She pressed her palms to her burning cheeks. “What is wrong with me?”

She was tired. That was it.

And stressed.

Who wouldn’t be after finding body parts and death threats? Her lust could be a way for her body to distract her from the real issues.

She reached into the shower and turned on the water, leaving it all the way in the cold position, determined to douse the errant flame before it burned out of control. Then she shed her clothes, dropping them on the floor around her feet.

For a moment, she stood naked, letting herself imagine what out-of-control might manifest into.

Like marching naked out of the bathroom and throwing herself at the man whose job was to protect her.

Or calling out to him for help and then trapping him in the bathroom, where she would strip his clothes off and run her hands all over his body.

Bernie moaned. “Enough.”

She stepped beneath the shower’s spray and gasped. Cold water pelted her skin. For several long minutes, she fought to catch her breath, gooseflesh pebbling her skin.

Slowly, the heat abated, leaving her shivering in the cold spray.

Relieved that the cool water had done the trick, she turned the handle, adding warm water to the shower head. Then she worked shampoo into her hair and soaped her body, washing away the dirt and grime normal for a day’s hard work on the farm. She ran her hands over her neck and arms, across her breasts and downward to the juncture of her thighs.

And just like that, she was on fire all over again.

Twisting the handle back to cold, she stood under the punishingly cold spray until all the suds disappeared down the drain, along with her desire, and she was clean.

Bernie shut off the water, grabbed a towel and attacked her skin, rubbing harder than necessary to dry herself.

She wrapped the towel around her and pushed the door open just enough so she could see through to the living room.

Damn. She’d left the bedroom door open.

She hadn’t brought a change of clothes into the bathroom with her. Which meant she had to pass in front of the bedroom door to reach her dresser with her clothes inside.

If Gerard happened to see her in her bedroom, wrapped only in a towel, so what? All the important parts were covered. She had nothing to be afraid of.

Unless her fingers slipped and the towel fell to the bedroom floor, exposing her naked body to the Marine.

Bernie tiptoed across the floor, holding the towel in one hand as she reached for the door to close it.