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“Thank you.”
“I’m also hanging up a robe for you.”
True to his word, he left without seeming to glance in her direction.
Simultaneously relieved and a little disappointed, she closed her eyes.
Her reaction to him was so feminine, leaving her aching with longing.
Which was ridiculous, she chided herself.
She was here because she needed help. Nothing more.
That decision in mind, she banished her wayward thoughts and pushed open the glass door.
A small, round basket waited for her, filled with everything she might need—a hair clip, ponytail holders, lavender-scented shower gel, shampoo, lotion, face wipes, even moisturizer.
Brandy had also thoughtfully included a toothbrush and toothpaste.
She hoped to have the chance to thank both Brandy and Catrina at some point.
Goose bumps covering her, Sasha picked up the small bottle of body wash and hurried back under the warm spray.
A little later, feeling much more in control, she turned off the knobs, then dried herself.
The robe he’d left for her was oversize—obviously one of his.
After a moment’s hesitation, she pulled on the garment and snuggled into its comfort.
The mirror was steamed over, and she wiped a path so she could see her face as she removed her dramatic makeup.
Within a minute, she appeared more like herself again.
But her eyes, wide and apprehensive, were unfamiliar.
Part of her had hoped Gregorio would be reassuring, telling her she was overreacting to the situation.
But the way he’d instantly been on guard and taken control had left her shaken.
After cinching the belt a little bit tighter around her waist, she pulled back her shoulders and walked through to the living room.
A small fire crackled in the hearth, inviting her to relax even more.
She found Gregorio in the kitchen, an electric kettle nearby, and two mugs in front of it.
Sasha had been alone for so long, fighting her own battles, that his anticipation of her needs meant the world to her. This tenderness was a side to him that she hadn’t expected, one that contrasted sharply with his hardened, black ops persona. “Thank you for everything.”
“Brandy did the work.”
“But you asked her to. And I appreciate it.” Resting her hips against the counter, she studied him.
“Tea?” he asked. “I’d offer wine, but I figured you might want to keep a clear mind.”
“You’re right about that. Something hot sounds great, thanks.” Not that she could keep a clear mind around this man, no matter what she drank. She noticed an assortment of tea bags scattered on the counter. “Chamomile?”
“Supposed to be soothing. Help your sleep or something.”
“Did Brandy bring those over, as well?”