Or the sadness from the other day. Yeah, that one had nearly killed him. He didn’t know exactly when or where or how but one thing was clear—he was no longer guarding himself against her.

Not good.

But if he’d softened, Lily had actually seemed to go the opposite route. The closer they got, the more she pushed him away.

“I’m happy to have you kiss my ass,” she said, eyes still flashing. “Theoretically.”

“I prefer literally,” he said.

She let out a low laugh and tipped her head up, staring at the ceiling. “What are you doing here, Aidan?”

“Told you. Lenny called me.”

“And so you came running to the rescue.”

“It’s what I do,” he said.

“Right. Your job.”

“I’m sensing sarcasm,” he said.

“And irritation,” she said. “Don’t forget that one.”

“Look, I get that you don’t like the idea of being just a job to me,” he said, “but we both know you don’t want to be anything more either.”

At that, she rolled off the bed. Hugging her towel to herself, she limped to the closet. And though it was the size of a pea she shut herself in there.

Rustling sounds came from within and then a thump—an elbow hitting the wall?—and a muffled “Dammit!”

Picturing her in there, possibly dropping her towel, struggling naked in that small space, had his amusement fading, replaced by something far more difficult to ignore. “Tell me something,” he said to the door. “Rescue aside, why are you mad at me?”

The rustling stopped.

Everything stopped. It seemed as if she was not even breathing in there. “Lily?”

The closet door opened slowly. She’d ditched the towel for a sundress, this one peach with a snug bodice and filmy, loose skirt that fell to midthigh. She strode toward him, her bandaged hands on her breasts holding the bodice in place.

He sucked in a breath, staring down at her as time switched to slow-mo. She licked her lips and they parted … and he couldn’t believe it. She was coming at him, half dressed, her eyes soft, her mouth … God, that mouth. He wanted it on him. He wanted that more than he wanted anything in the world … And then that mouth started moving. She was talking, and he had to force himself to tune in to her words.

“—zip me.”

The slow-mo screeched to a complete halt and then it was real time again. She’d turned her back and was looking at him over her shoulder like he was a half-wit.

He shook himself and zipped her, covering up the creamy, smooth skin of her back, which was the opposite of what he wanted to do. The dress still bared her shoulders, however, and he stared down at the delicate tat of an infinity sign, unable to stop himself from running his finger slowly over it.