Free Solace in Scandal by Kimberly Dean Page B

was wrong with her? She was a smart, level-headed sort of girl. She knew right from wrong. This may have felt right, but it was so wrong it bordered on stupid.
    She scrambled away when he sat up.
    ‘Elena.’
    She looked at him as she clutched her jeans and her top to her chest. The expression on his face made her nearly crumple, but she steeled her spine. She rocked back onto her feet and stood. The position made her feel all the more vulnerable. She didn’t have the nerve to put on any of her clothes in front of him, and she knew that damned mirror stood at her back, reflecting everything for him to see.
    Only he wasn’t looking at the mirror. He was still looking at her face.
    Her hair swung over her shoulder. ‘I’ve got to go. I’m glad I was here to help you … with
that
…’
    She tilted her head towards the bathroom door that now stood open wide.
    But she never should have helped him with
that
…
    She couldn’t stop staring at him sitting on the mat with his elbows draped over his knees and his towel a good three feet away. He stared at her unflinchingly, his expression a combination of satiation, hurt and a determination that made her uneasy.
    She backed towards the door. ‘I –’
    She what? There really was nothing more to say. She’d just made a huge, incalculable mistake.
    Turning with her clothes in her arms, she scampered towards the door.
    * * *
    Alex watched Elena go. He wanted to follow her, but he knew this was for the better.
    He rubbed the ball of his hand against his chest and looked around the room. The feeling in the gym had changed. It seemed so quiet, so empty, so dull. He rolled his neck and pushed himself to his feet.
    ‘Ah! Damn it.’ Reaching out, he braced himself against the weight bench. He looked at the bottom of his foot and grimaced. It was ugly. ‘Hell.’
    That was all he needed, something else to keep him contained.
    Funny, only moments ago he hadn’t felt the pain at all. His gaze swept the mat. She hadn’t quite gotten everything on her mad dash. One sock was stuffed under a treadmill, while its partner sat on top of it. Something colourful caught his eye up by the elliptical machine, and his gaze stuck. Her bra. It was a light lavender colour, with delicate lace along the cups. He hadn’t even noticed in his ham-handedness in getting it off her.
    Bending down, he hooked his finger around a strap and picked it up. It was soft and padded, although she didn’t need the help. He clenched the soft fabric in his fist and reached for the towel he’d dropped nearby.
    He let out a gust of air when he spotted the evidence of their lovemaking still on the mat. Just looking at the wet spot, he felt himself getting hard all over again.
    ‘Get your head out of your ass,’ he chided himself.
    She was right about the two of them. They had no business being together – even if she was the sexiest, most fascinating little creature he’d come across in aeons. And the hottest little spitfire. They’d nearly lit up this room with the fireworks they’d thrown together.
    But that had been a huge mistake.
    The two of them? With their history?
    He quickly cleaned up and tossed the towel and socks in the hamper. His thumb swept over the cup of her bra for a moment before it followed suit.
    Jaw hardening, he wandered over to the bathroom that had been his second prison in a week. He glared at the rubber mat that sat propped up askew in the corner. He yanked it away from the door and tossed it. The heavy rubber square went flying through the air like a super-duty magic carpet. It hit the floor in the middle of the room with a smack that rang in his eardrums.
    How long would he have been stuck in there if she hadn’t found him? He braced himself against the door frame, still unable to make himself go inside. He hadn’t meant to pounce on her, but he’d been in that tiny eight-by-ten room long enough that he’d been riding the razor’s edge. And she’d been so soft and pretty. So