Free On the Surface (In the Zone) by Kate Willoughby Page A

hair was damp. He must have showered and she hadn’t even heard him.
    “Hi,” she whispered back.
    “I tried not to wake you up.”
    While you were in the shower. Naked. Six feet plus of sculpted , wet muscle.
    “How are you feeling?”
    “Better.” He turned to face her. “But it was rough going there for a while.”
    She nodded in sympathy. “I know. Food poisoning is the worst. You think you’re going to die.”
    Even in the darkness, his eyes twinkled. “I’d have preferred death. I’d have preferred a stick to the face. At least that’s over quickly.”
    “You need to drink something. Water or watered-down juice. I’m sure you’re dehydrated.”
    “I had some water before. I’m good.”
    She put a hand on his bristly cheek. He didn’t feel clammy anymore nor did his voice waver like it had before. “Okay, I think you’re past the worst of it so I should probably take off.”
    She started to get up, but he reached out and touched her arm.
    “Wait. You must be as tired as I am. You don’t have to go.”
    She hesitated. After getting probably less than three hours sleep, she really was still exhausted.
    “You should just stay a little longer,” he said in a low, rumbly voice. “We’ll both get some more shut-eye, then I’ll take you home. Do you have to work tomorrow? Today, I mean?”
    “No, it’s my day off.” She bit her lip with indecision. “But, I really should go home.”
    He slid his hand down her arm and took her hand. “What if I have a relapse?”
    She laughed but didn’t remove her hand from the warmth of his. Her arm tingled where he’d touched her. “You won’t have a relapse.”
    “You don’t know that. I’m a sickly guy. It’s pathetic. I’ve been thinking about hiring a personal health assistant for a while now.”
    “That is the biggest load of crap I’ve heard in a long time. Personal health assistant.”
    He grinned. She noticed he had exceptionally nice teeth. They gleamed in the dark hotel room. “It’s the latest thing for the all-around athlete. Trust me.”
    She sighed, reconsidering. There were worse things she could imagine than getting a couple more hours of sleep. It wasn’t as if he was going to jump her. He didn’t have the energy, even if he wanted to. Besides, she’d left her car at the hospital and she didn’t really want to shell out the money and wait for a cab.
    “How much do personal health assistants get paid?”
    He thought about it and then faked a yawn. “Wow. I’m suddenly really, really tired.”
    She laughed.
    “Yeah, I don’t think I can keep my eyes open much—”
    He shut his eyes and let his mouth drop open in a loud, phony snore.
    “You’re a funny guy,” she said.
    The snore continued, louder.
    She smothered her giggle. “All right. You win. I’ll stay.”
    He opened one eye, smiled and said, “Good.”
    And he didn’t let go of her hand.
    * * *
    When Erin woke for the second time, the sun hadn’t been up for long. No one had pulled the blackout curtains. Her back was cold. She normally found hotel rooms to be nippy, but bad enough she was sharing Tim’s bed—she wasn’t about to get under the covers. So, she’d resigned herself to being cold.
    Oddly, her front was warm.
    Mainly because she’d spooned up against Tim Hollander’s back.
    Oh my God.
    She froze, mortified. Luckily, her sleep self hadn’t gone so far as to wrap an arm around him, but that was definitely his mighty fine ass against her groin area.
    He had remained on top of the covers too. Meager daylight allowed her to see that after his shower, he’d dressed in a white T-shirt. What he had on the bottom, she couldn’t see. Her field of vision was limited to his broad shoulders and back. She could detect his man smell beneath the showery soap now, and that sort of went to her head like an aphrodisiac. Ever so slowly she raised her head.
    He had sweatpants on.
    Thank God.
    She let out a careful sigh of relief. Now all she had to do was