She knew she shouldn’t be shocked to see the angry red marks there; after all, she’d experienced every single one. But to see them in the bright light of the gleaming white bathroom was daunting. Also a little scary that they weren’t as bad as she would have thought.

She watched him while he continued to run his fingers softly over her back. His face was a kaleidoscope of emotion. Sorrow. Shame. Compassion. Fury. And, finally, determination. Then his face cleared and his gaze snapped to hers.

“Take as long as you need,” he said quietly, turning away. He picked up the box of soap, opened it, and set the fresh bar on top of the pile of towels. “I’ll fix us something to eat.” He shut the door gently as he left.

Hot steam clouded the room while Harper removed the rest of her grubby clothes. She briefly wondered whether Rome knew just how expressive his face could be. Probably not. He was a supersecret government agent or something. They weren’t supposed to have facial expressions, right?

Stepping around the shower’s tiled wall, she was enveloped by the cascading hot spray from both showerheads. She was a tad surprised at his affinity for double-headed showers. It was a luxury she definitely wasn’t used to. But she sure wasn’t complaining.

It was absolute ecstasy.

The lavish fall of water seeped warmth into every inch of her skin, soothing and healing the plentiful aches she knew were there and some she hadn’t known existed. The pain of the last few days slowly ebbed away under the restorative tide, spiraling down the drain.

She brought the bar of soap to her nose. Spicy and clean. Just like Rome. She was surprised when a low growl came from her throat at the thought of his scent.

Shaking it aside, Harper lathered a generous froth over her entire body. The thorough cleansing stung in a few places, but it was a small price to pay for the fresh feeling it created. Invigorating, really. She ran the bar through her hair several times, watching the soapy bubble rinse down the drain, relishing the feeling of grime sliding out of the blonde mop.

After she’d scrubbed herself off, she simply let the water flow over her, enjoying the clean and tranquil sensation, trying to stamp it into her memory just in case it was a while before she’d feel it again.

Harper reluctantly turned the water off on one side, then the other. The thick steam embraced her, caressing her dripping skin as she picked up the downy towel Rome had left for her. Drying herself thoroughly, she wrapped the thick fabric around her body and opened the door.

She spied Rome standing at the stove. Moving into the kitchen, the inviting aroma of eggs invaded her senses. A small smile broke out as she moved closer, spotting a heaping pile of shredded cheddar cheese and an open package of Canadian bacon on the counter, chopped into little chunks. He was making an omelet. And it smelled like paradise. The spatula looked odd in his large hand, but he capably flipped around the pan’s steaming and crackling contents.

“That smells wonderful,” Harper purred, leaning her toweled hip against the white tiled counter.

Rome swung his head to stare at her. His intense gaze raked across her bare shoulders, then down the towel to her thighs and back up. The swirling blue gaze virtually stripped the towel right off her freshly scrubbed body. The air between them sizzled with desire. She knew the feeling. There was something inexplicably hot about a manly man cooking.

“Uh, um…” He blinked and cleared his throat. “This’ll be ready in a minute.” He shook his head and turned his attention back to the steaming pan. “I set out some clothes for you in the bedroom. We can throw yours in the washer later.” He gave her a rueful sideways glance. “Again.”

Rapping her knuckles on the counter, she nodded with a smile and walked toward the room with the big bed. Spread out on top of the comforter were a pair of well-worn gray sweatpants and a soft cotton T-shirt. The black T sported a faded green and gold Minnesota North Stars emblem on the chest that just screamed Rome. She hardly knew him, but somehow, it was right. She tossed the towel on the floor and pulled on the clothes-his clothes. The fit was large, but comfy from wear.

Harper bent to pick up the towel and saw a pair of thick, gray wool socks on the bed as well. Donning them, she relished the cozy, cushy feel as she padded to the bathroom to spread the towel on the wooden rack. She then returned to the kitchen to see Rome setting full plates on the wooden table in front of the television. He then brought out two frosty bottles of water, setting them on coasters.

Smiling at the strange thought of a man using coasters, she sank into the nearest beanbag chair and grabbed one of the steaming plates, along with one of the nearby forks. The cheesy omelet tasted even better than it looked and smelled as she took the first scrumptious bite. It simply melted in her mouth.

“Mmm.” Harper couldn’t help the moan that escaped. “Good.” She shoved another forkful into her watering mouth.

“Cooking’s kind of a hobby of mine,” Rome said through his own mouthful. “But don’t tell anyone.” He lowered his voice and gave her a mock severe look. And added a killer wink.

“My lips are sealed.” She brought her fingers up to her mouth, mimicking the turning of a lock and key. Then she frowned. “Well, they’re sealed after I finish eating.” She gave him a playful wink back and smiled at his reactive grin.

So, he cooked. Something she was admittedly lousy at. Most everyone had a hobby. She thought his would be fixing motorbikes or snowboarding. Something rough and tough. But it was also somehow fitting that a strong, confident man like him would cook. Actual food, no less, not just reheated premade stuff. His joking about keeping it a secret was for show. He had a confidence in everything he did. And he did eggs very well.

Harper finished her omelet in silence and then studied Rome while she crunched on a piece of cinnamonsugar toast. His muscles were tensed, as if he was upset and wanted nothing but to spring away from there. He was wearing jeans and a black T-shirt, which she was beginning to think was his usual garb. The shirt hugged his chest and shoulders like a second skin. Corded muscles flexed along his forearms as he consumed his meal. His jaw sported dark stubble and his close-cropped hair looked a tad mussed. Rugged and sexy. Like her own personal model for the annual firemen’s calendar. Being able to look at him was the one bright spot in this whole thing right now.

As if sensing her gaze, he took a deep breath, but kept his eyes on his own plate.

“I didn’t know they’d hurt you,” he said quietly. “I mean, I did. I know exactly what they do there, but I…” His voice trailed off and he took another bite. His jaw was hard with tension as he chomped hard. She watched him swallow and sigh heavily through his nose. “I didn’t know what to do, Harper. Your power-or whatever it is-it’s like nothing I’d ever seen. It scared me.” He took another deep breath and unleashed his blue gaze upon her. “I’m so very sorry.”

Sitting there, enraptured by him, Harper had no idea what to say. It’s okay? No, it wasn’t. He’d betrayed her. He’d just admitted it. As alone as she was now, that wasn’t something she could just forget. She took the last bite of her toast and set her plate down on the wooden table with a slight thud.

“You said to trust you,” she said softly, squinting with the aching thought. “Then you turned on me.” She watched him wince ever so slightly.

“You should have told me,” he countered.

“It shouldn’t have mattered,” she shot back. He whipped his glance away from her. Trust was trust. Wasn’t it?

“You still should have told me,” Rome persisted, turning back to her. A puzzled look crossed his face. “How can you do…that?” He wiggled his hand around, obviously referring to her power.