by Lynsay Sands
“Thank you,” he murmured to Leonora, heading for the door.
“Wait for me,” Stephanie said, throwing the covers aside to follow him.
Harper slowed as he headed out of the room, but not much. He wanted to see Drina. He wanted to take her in his arms and never let her go. A man got a lot of things straight when he was forced to face his own mortality, and Harper had realized some things. He loved the damned woman. He’d come to love her fire, her passion, her wit, and her strength. And he was glad as hell she hadn’t been in that room when the firebomb or whatever it was had come flying through the window.
“A Molotov cocktail,” Stephanie said behind him, as he started down the stairs. He only realized she was naming whatever it was that had exploded all over them, when she explained, “The memory of the fire chief saying that was one of Teddy’s surface memories. . Thank you for dragging me out of the porch.”
Harper slowed at her quiet words and turned to slip his arm around her shoulders affectionately, muttering, “My pleasure.”
Stephanie slipped her own arm around his waist and squeezed briefly, then slid past him on the stairs and hurried the rest of the way to the main floor, turning right at the bottom as if she knew where she was going. Harper followed since he didn’t have a clue of the layout of the house, and they turned into a dining room, where Stephanie paused abruptly, her mouth dropping.
Harper followed her gaze, spotted Drina slumped miserably on a stool in the kitchen at the opposite end of the house and started toward her at once. Relief coursed through him just at the sight of her. He was passing Stephanie when she made an odd sound that had him glancing toward her. He frowned as he realized that her mouth hadn’t dropped open in surprise; the girl was heaving.
Slowing reluctantly, he asked, “Are you all-” And then he came to a shuddering halt as the smell hit him. His head jerked back to Drina with horror just as her head came up.
She peered at them blankly for a second, and then relief lit up her face like a Christmas tree. She promptly leapt off her stool and rushed forward, clutching what appeared to be a ratty old sheet around her as she hurried to him.
“Oh, Harper, Stephanie. Oh thank God!” she cried. “I’ve been so worried.”
Despite himself, Harper took a quick step back at her approach, but then caught himself and forced himself to stand still. He also stopped breathing, however, holding his breath in a desperate bid to keep from gagging as the woman he loved threw herself at him and hugged him.
Drina held him tightly and for a very, very long time. At least it seemed a very long time to him as he continued to hold his breath, but then she finally pulled pack to peer up at him happily. Her smile was wide, her eyes glowing. . until she saw his face. Concern immediately replaced her relief.
“You’re terribly flush,” she said with a frown. “Have you had enough blood? Maybe you should lie down for a bit. Are you-Harper, you’re turning purple!”
“I’m fine.” He sighed on an exhale and pulled her to his chest again so that she wouldn’t see his face as he inhaled another breath. Dear God, he thought as the toxic fumes wafted from the love of his life to fill his mouth and lungs. Oh Good Lord in heaven, he moaned inwardly, barely managing not to whimper aloud.
“I wanted to come up-” Drina began, and then paused as she peered past him. “Stephanie? What are you doing way over- Oh.”
She deflated like a punctured balloon, and then flushed with mortification and-avoiding Harper’s eyes-scrurried quickly back to her stool. She crawled back onto it, her shoulders slumped and every line of her body speaking of misery. Her voice was much subdued when she said, “I’m glad you’re both all right, and that you came down so I could see for myself. You can both go back upstairs now with the others, though, if you like. I understand.”
Harper turned to see that Stephanie had moved over to a desk holding a computer, about as far as she could get and stay in the room. He supposed that and the girl’s dismayed expression were what had recalled Drina to the matter of her scent.
Sighing, he glanced back to Drina, and then forced himself to move across the room to join her. With every step, he assured himself that his senses would deaden to the scent quickly, and he could bear it till they did. Still, he couldn’t help holding his breath as he approached and stood in front of her.
“What-?” she began when he appeared before her. But when Harper simply caught her upper arms and pulled her against his chest, she fell against him with a little sniffle that told him how much it meant to her. He suspected his Drina did not cry often, if at all. A weepy woman would never have passed for a male pirate, and he doubted gladiators could afford the luxury of weeping, either.
Harper heard her inhale and glanced down curiously to see that she had her nose pressed to his chest and was trying to inhale his scent. He wondered that she could smell anything over her own stench, so wasn’t terribly surprised when Drina sighed miserably, and mourned, “I can’t smell you. I love your scent, but I can’t smell you.”
Harper didn’t have a clue what to say to that, and really, speaking would mean releasing the air in his lungs and taking in another. He desperately wanted to avoid doing that until absolutely necessary, so was grateful for the distraction when the door beside them suddenly opened, and Anders entered, bags in hand.
Drina was out of his arms and on Anders at once. “Did you get everything?”
“Dear God, woman! Get back. You stink,” Anders barked.
Harper scowled at the man. It was no more than Drina was doing, however. He wasn’t surprised her moment of sniffly misery had passed and her naturally fiery nature had reasserted itself. This was more the Alexandrina Argenis he knew.
Eyes narrowing, Drina moved closer instead of getting back as Anders had ordered, and then hissed up at the Russian. “And you’re the most miserable SOB I’ve ever encountered, so I guess we all have our crosses to bear.” She snatched the bags from him, and then turned away adding, “The difference is I’m about to bathe away this smell, but when I come down, you’ll still be a miserable SOB.”
Harper found a smile pulling his mouth wide as he watched Drina make her exit, walking out of the room with her eyes blazing and head high, as regal as any queen.
“Damn, she’s magnificent,” he breathed, positive he must be the luckiest bastard on the planet to have found her.
“Glad you think so,” Anders said dryly. “Then you can take these instructions up to her so she doesn’t screw it up and use the stuff in the wrong order or something.”
Harper glanced down at the paper the hunter shoved at him, noting the title Instructions on How to Remove Skunk Odor from a Human. He glanced back to Anders and smiled widely. “I’ll even help her follow the instructions.”
“I’ll bet you will,” Anders said dryly.
Chapter Thirteen
Drina closed the bathroom door behind her with a kick of her heel, set the bags of soap, tomato juice, and vinegar on the bathroom counter, and then turned to the tub, only to pause with a frown. Was she supposed to just pour all this stuff in the tub, or was she supposed to add water or what? She hadn’t a clue. She needed the instructions.
Clucking with irritation, Drina turned back to the door, annoyed with herself because she was about to ruin a damned fine exit by having to scurry back and beg for the instructions. Muttering under her breath, she pulled the door open and found Harper there, hand upraised as if he’d been about to knock.
Smiling crookedly, he lowered the knocking hand and raised the other, revealing the instructions.
“Thank you,” Drina breathed, taking the sheet of paper with a relief that was not proportional to the moment. She knew then that her exhaustion was definitely making her overemotional. She’d sat on that stool all night, nodding off a time or two from sheer exhaustion, but only for a second each time before her swaying body had brought her abruptly back awake.
“Do you want some help?” Harper asked quickly when she started to close the d
oor.
Drina paused in surprise, and then smiled wryly at his pained expression and shook her head. “Thank you for offering. It’s very sweet, but I know I smell like the worst backed-up drainage system ever and wouldn’t even inflict this on Anders.”
“I came prepared,” he said quickly, bringing her to a halt again. This time the door was almost closed, and she had to pull it back open. When she peered at him quizzically, Harper opened the hand he’d had fisted to knock, revealing a clothespin resting in his palm.
Drina released a startled laugh and shook her head. “You-”
Her words caught in her throat when he suddenly covered her mouth with his. Lifting it a moment later, Harper said gently, “I believe the expression is for better or worse. Besides, in a few minutes, it will be all better and no worse.”
She chuckled at the way he wiggled one eyebrow lasciviously and backed into the bathroom to let him in. “All right. You can read the instructions to me.”
Drina handed him back the instructions after a quick glance at the first one. She then moved to the tub to put in the stopper.
“Take off the clothes you’re wearing,” Harper read out as she straightened. He then caught the back of her sheet and whipped it away.
Drina gasped, and then turned to prop her fists on her naked hips and give him a feigned scowl. “I read the first instructions. It said take off the clothes you were wearing when sprayed.”
“True, but you can’t bathe in the sheet anyway, so I thought I’d be helpful,” he said, his eyes appreciating her pose and nakedness.
Drina snorted at the claim, and then grinned with amusement when he glanced around, closed the toilet seat, and sat on it, then attached the clothespin to his nose, pinching it closed, as he considered the instructions again.
“Fill a tub with water and get in,” he read, his voice now nasal.
Chuckling, she turned back to the tub and turned the taps on full. Drina then glanced over her shoulder to catch him eyeing her derriere in a manner that probably wouldn’t go under the listing of “helpful.” Shaking her head, she asked, “What do I put in first? The tomato juice or-?”
“Neither,” he interrupted, managing to tear his gaze from her derriere and back to the sheet. “It says to wash first with just soap and water, that sometimes if you only got a light spray, it’s enough.”
“My spraying wasn’t light,” she said dryly. It had been a nice hard steady stream. The little beast had probably been saving up all winter to douse someone. Lucky her for being the recipient. “And Teddy said a bath wouldn’t help by itself, or I would have done it last night.”
“I’m just reading the instructions,” he said with an apologetic shrug.
“Right,” Drina muttered. The tub was only half-full, but she stepped into it and sat down anyway. While the water continued to run, she picked up the bar of soap on the side of the tub, dunked it in the water, and began to lather it up and apply it to herself.
Harper said something she couldn’t hear over the sound of the rushing water. Busy lathering her chest and neck, Drina simply lifted one foot out of the water and used her toes to turn off the tap before turning to him to ask, “What was that?”
He was staring rather blankly at the taps.
“Harper?” she asked with a frown.
“You turned it off with your toes,” he muttered.
“Yes,” Drina said, and tilted her head uncertainly. She’d done it automatically and hadn’t realized it was odd, but his expression was. . well, she wasn’t sure what his expression was. His eyes were wide though, and he was now staring at her feet at the end of the tub with a sort of fascination.
“What talented little feet you have,” he murmured finally, his gaze shifting back to her face. “What else can you do with them?”
Drina opened her mouth, closed it, and then narrowed her eyes. “Are you having another one of your perverted little fantasies like the maid apron and boots?”
“Uh-huh.” Harper nodded, his eyes sliding over her naked breasts above the water.
Drina chuckled and turned to begin soaping herself again, saying nonchalantly, “I can do all sorts of things with my toes and feet.”
Harper released a little sigh and set the instruction sheet on the side of the sink, then slid to his knees beside the tub and reached for the soap. “Let me help soap you up.”
“No way.” She laughed, holding the soap out of his reach. “Back on the toilet, mister. You can help later, when I smell better.”
He sighed but did as instructed and simply watched silently as she soaped every inch of her skin, and then rinsed it away.
“I haven’t been able to smell for hours now,” Drina said on a sigh as she sniffed at her arm. “But I don’t think it worked.”
Harper caught her hand and pulled it to his nose for a sniff, then bit his lip and shook his head.
“Right,” she muttered, pulling the plug on the water and standing up as the tub began to drain. “So what’s the next step?”
“Wash with carbolic soap,” he read, and stood to search the bags on the counter for the item in question.
Drina glanced impatiently down at the half-drained water, and reached to turn on the shower. It didn’t make sense to wash the smell away and then sit in the smelly water full of stuff you just soaped off. She would shower this time.
“No fair,” Harper complained when she pulled the tub’s shower curtain closed after taking the soap he handed her.
Drina chuckled but simply continued with her plan, standing outside the spray of water to thoroughly soap herself up, and then moving under it to rinse herself.
“Now?” she asked a few moments later, jerking the curtain open enough to stick her hand out for inspection.
He sniffed and then shook his head apologetically. “Better, but. .”
Drina sighed and turned off the shower. “Next?”
“Fill a bucket with equal parts water and vinegar and use a rag to wash yourself with the mixture. Scrub hard, but not to the point of pain,” Harper read, and then glanced around with a frown. “We don’t have a bucket.”
“Look under the sink,” she suggested.
He opened one of the cupboard doors and made a sound of triumph. “A cleaning bucket.”
“Good enough,” Drina decided, stepping out of the tub and using the ruined sheet to dry herself while Harper quickly rinsed the bucket, dumped a large bottle of vinegar in, then refilled the vinegar bottle with warm water and added that as well.
He reached under the sink again then, and sorted through a stack of washcloths before settling on the rattiest of the bunch, which wasn’t truly very ratty. He dropped it in the water and glanced to her. “Shall I-?”
“Sit,” she said firmly, urging him aside. Drina then began to clean herself with the pungent solution, first dunking her hair in the pail, wringing it out as thoroughly as she could, and then scrubbing at her face and working her way down. She was aware of Harper’s fascinated eyes watching every move and just couldn’t resist playing it up a bit, moving the cloth over her breasts more lovingly, and then setting her foot on the toilet seat between his thighs to wash one leg, leaving herself open to his view as she did.
Really, she hadn’t got sprayed on the legs and this wasn’t necessary at all, but Drina thought the smell was finally beginning to recede, she was feeling better, and really it was fun, she acknowledged to herself as she switched feet on the toilet seat, giving him the same open view from a different angle. This time she washed everything.
“I think it’s starting to work,” Harper growled, his hands reaching for her, and Drina immediately jumped back.
“Starting is good, but I want it gone,” she said firmly. “What’s next?”
Harper stared mournfully at the crux of her thighs for a moment, and then turned back to the sheet of instructions. “Pour the tomato juice all over your body and wash yourself with it as well, scrubbing again.” He glanced up. “It’s the last step. After that it’
s wash with soap and water again, probably to remove the tomato juice.”
He set the sheet down and stood to move past her to the bags on the counter. “Get in the tub, and I’ll pour the juice over you.”
Drina stepped into the tub. She then bent to put the stopper back in to keep the fluid in the tub in case he missed a spot pouring it on her, like under her chin, or her ears or-good Lord-just anywhere the spray may have gotten.
“Head up, eyes closed,” Harper ordered, when she straightened and turned back.
Drina did as instructed and gasped as cool liquid poured over her head and face and splashed down over her, then blinked her eyes open in surprise when his hands were suddenly moving over her breasts.
“It missed a couple spots as it poured over you,” he explained huskily, moving the cool red liquid around and over her breasts. . repeatedly, first with his hands, and then with the cloth.
Drina bit her lip and clenched her fists to keep from reaching for him as Harper spent what seemed an endless amount of time, and half the jugs of tomato juice Anders had purchased, ensuring her breasts were spray free.
Her toes were curling in the red liquid now pooling in the tub, when he finally said, “Turn.”
Drina turned her back to him, and sucked in a breath as the cool liquid poured over her head and back. He again used his hands to direct the tomato juice around, this time paying special attention to her behind. His fingers sliding over the curves, under the curves, and then dipping briefly between her legs, making her brace her hands on the cold tiles to keep her balance as she gasped, “I’m pretty sure I didn’t get sprayed there.”
“Yes, but you were sitting in the first batch of tub water when you cleaned the surface stuff away, and it may have gotten everywhere. Best to do a thorough job,” he said, sounding cheerful and a bit breathless himself. His fingers slipped away as he turned to switch the empty jug for a fresh one, and then he repeated the process, once again ending between her legs.