Joel's fingers tightened on the steering wheel as he returned his attention to the road. He knew exactly what those thugs wanted from Lora, and in a clearer state of mind, he was sure she'd figure out what they intended, as well. But at the moment he was so fucking torn about what to do or say to her. After what she'd just gone through, she deserved to know the truth-the whole truth, but right now she wasn't in the frame of mind to hear, or even comprehend, her part in Zach's scheme.

But come morning, when she was more cognizant, he decided he was going to tell her everything-how her brother had involved her in his addiction, and even his own role in protecting her.

Ultimately, she needed to understand just how dangerous the situation had become.

Chapter Nine

JOEL was saved from having to answer Lora's painful question as he pulled up to his house. He hit the garage door remote, and once the panels had lifted open he parked the SUV, he cut the engine, then got out and rounded the vehicle to the passenger side. He opened the door for Lora, but she didn't move-except for the tremors still running just below the surface of her skin. The bluish tint to her lips worried him, and if he didn't get her warmed up, and quick, they'd be making a trip to the emergency room.

He gently helped her out of the car and into the house, her movements sluggish and unsteady. She stumbled a few times and looked around, clearly disoriented and confused.

"Where are we?" she mumbled.

"We're at my place." With a firm hold around her waist, he led her back to his bedroom, then into the adjoining bathroom.

Immediately, he turned on the shower to warm up the water as quickly as possible, then flipped the switch for the overhead heating lamp, doing whatever he could to increase the temperature in the bathroom. He slid the leather jacket off her shoulders and down her arms, his fingers brushing along her chilled skin as he pulled the garment off. Her bare flesh was pebbled with goose bumps, and it was difficult not to notice the stiff points of her nipples pushing against her thin, wet T-shirt.

"You need to get undressed and into the shower," he told her, meeting her gaze. "You're freezing cold."

She gave a jerky nod of her head, and he turned and exited the bathroom to give her privacy to strip naked and step into the shower. Less than a minute later he heard a soft whimper and didn't hesitate to glance back inside. Still fully clothed, her cold, fumbling fingers couldn't unfasten the snap on her jeans. She was shivering all over again, and when she glanced up at him, her glassy eyes were filled with tears.

"I… can't," she said as her teeth began to chatter.

Obviously, giving her privacy wasn't going to be an option. There was no question in Joel's mind what he had to do, and he stepped back inside the bathroom to help. Pushing her hands aside, he tackled her top first, quickly and efficiently skimming the damp, clinging T-shirt up over her head and off, doing his best to work around her sluggish, awkward movements. Leaving her bra on for the moment, and for his own sanity, he turned his attention to her jeans. Once they were unzipped, he pushed them over her hips to her thighs. She swayed on her feet, and he made her sit on the closed toilet seat so he could kneel in front of her and remove her boots and socks, then drag the saturated denim down her endlessly long legs as the bathroom filled with warm, soothing steam from the shower and overhead lamps.

Standing again, he pulled her back up, too, unclasped her bra, and let it fall to the floor. Her silky panties followed right after, and one glance at her completely naked had his dick swelling with typical male lust. Up until that point, he'd managed to remain detached and focused on undressing Lora as fast as possible, and even though his brain recognized the situation as dire, his body obviously had a mind of its own.

Ignoring the tightening ache in his groin, he guided Lora into the shower and positioned her beneath the heavy spray of water. She moaned and crossed her arms over her stomach as the heated water hit her cold skin and sluiced its way down her trembling body.

Knowing he couldn't leave her alone, he kicked off his shoes and removed his own T-shirt and jeans. Keeping his black boxer briefs on for a number of reasons, he joined Lora in the glass enclosure, then shut the door to keep in the rising steam. Wrapping his arms securely around her back, he pulled her as close as two bodies could get, to generate a more natural, instinctive kind of heat.

She was rigid and unyielding at first due to how cold she was, but as the water and heat lamps bathed her in warmth and gradually chased away her chill, fear, and shock, she grew soft and pliant in his embrace. Water cascaded over her shoulders and between their bodies as he caressed his hands down her back, then up again in slow, soothing strokes. Before long, she released a soft, shuddering sigh and relaxed completely against him, trusting him to keep her safe and protected.

From now on, he swore, he would.

Her calm, slack response was exactly what he'd been trying to achieve, yet he'd failed to take into consideration the intimacy of the situation once the urgency of raising her temperature was no longer an issue. Now she was burrowed close with her head on his shoulder and her lips mere inches away from his neck. Then there was the soft cushion of her breasts pressing against his bare chest, and the exquisite feel of her silky smooth belly and supple thighs aligning so perfectly with his own.

Despite his best efforts to remain unaffected, arousal thrummed heavily through his veins. His cock pulsed with need, and he was grateful that he'd worn his boxer briefs, which was the only thing keeping his raging hard-on confined and under a semblance of control.

Needing some kind of distraction, he swept his hands up the provocative curve of her spine and beneath the fall of her hair. The heavy strands were wet, and the nape of her neck was the one place that was still cold to the touch. Tangling his fingers around those tresses, he gently tipped her head back so that the spray soaked her hair and warmed her scalp. With a low, appreciative moan, she closed her eyes and lifted her chin even more, so that the water cascaded over her face, down her slender throat, and across the generous rise of her breasts.

She looked so incredibly sensual, like a water nymph with her sleek, wet skin and the ribbons of steam swirling all around her. His gaze took in her slightly parted lips, then slid down the arch of her throat-and came to a stop on the red slash on her neck. One of the thugs had exerted enough pressure to leave a mark, but not enough to badly break the skin, thank God.

Still, he couldn't stem the surge of anger that gripped him anew-directed at the men who'd terrorized her, at Zach for involving Lora, but mostly at himself for allowing something so horrendous to happen when he'd sworn to keep her safe and protected.

The attack never should have happened on his watch, and knowing she could have been hurt much worse, he nearly choked on a fresh wave of anguish and remorse. Without thinking, he lifted his hand and gently stroked his fingers along the slight abrasion on her neck. Her skin was so soft, so delicate and fragile, and he couldn't help but feel solely responsible for putting her through such trauma.

"I'm sorry, Lora," he rasped, his voice sounding like rough sandpaper. "So, so sorry."

She brought her head back down, and her water-spiked lashes lifted, revealing beautiful green eyes that were far more lucid than they'd been ten minutes ago. Her face was flushed with warmth, and she met his gaze with a small smile that was so incredibly sweet and guileless.

"I'm okay," she said, misunderstanding his apology for concern, and he couldn't bring himself to explain the truth just yet.

As they stood beneath the pelting spray, a slow, seductive awareness gradually took hold. He could feel the subtle change from relaxed to aroused in Lora in how she shifted against him and the way her flattened palms slid around his waist and up the slope of his spine. He watched as she licked droplets of water from her bottom lip, and felt himself respond to the desire darkening her eyes. His cock throbbed and ached, the material of his boxer briefs too tight and confining against his stiff shaft.

"Joel…" she whispered, the one word filled with a wealth of emotion that struck a chord deep within him, too. Eyes closing, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.

Her mouth was soft and yielding, a heavenly temptation he couldn't resist, so he didn't even try. Her lips parted, and he accepted the invitation to deepen the connection, to slide his tongue inside and curl around hers, dragging her into a hunger so dark and hot he burned with the intensity of it.

He kissed her with a fierce urgency born of knowing that she was truly okay and unharmed. Kissed her with an abundance of relief and gratitude and something else far more profound that echoed in the farthest recesses of his soul-an emotional, intimate bond that rocked the foundation of the solitary man he'd always been.

Driven by pure sensation, encouraged by the uninhibited way her fingers dug into the muscles bisecting his back and the arch of her hips against his, Joel backed her up against the shower stall, pressed the length of his body along Lora's lush curves, and ravished her mouth with an overwhelming amount of passion and heat. His craving for her blazed through him like an out of control wildfire-a reckless, insatiable need he could no longer deny.

More. He needed more of Lora. Needed to touch and taste and savor every nuance that was uniquely hers.