It could be his dead mate. That possibility made her feel guilt-ridden. He’d just woken from his coma after watching the murder of the woman he loved. He’d been injured when he’d gone insane trying to reach her killers and attacked the bars of the cage they’d kept him locked inside.

Her arms hugged her waist as she stared sadly at the closed door between them. She’d spent months watching him sleep and learning as much as she could about his life before he’d been rescued. No files existed and the Mercile employees who’d been arrested weren’t forthcoming with much information. They’d heard on the news that the Mercile facilities were being targeted by the police and had stolen a few of the New Species.

Those lowlife jerks had tried to use their sperm to sell to some European company who’d wanted to create half-breed babies to sell on the black market as if they were some form of pets for the rich.

They’d probably stolen a mated pair of New Species in hopes of them having a child. There were only a few known cases of Mercile putting the males and females together long enough for them to become bonded. The best theory so far was that Mercile had hoped a mated pair would create a viable pregnancy. Another was that they’d used the women to control the men. The employees who’d stolen them must have given up on the female becoming pregnant and just killed her.

The water shut off in the other room and Alli braced for his return. She had no idea how to act or what to say but she wasn’t going to leave. His mental state concerned her. Would he feel guilty for touching her? Regret it? She didn’t even know why it had happened in the first place if he didn’t want her.

He opened the door abruptly, jerking her from her thoughts. His hair was wet and he wore only a towel draped around his lean hips. A lot of tan, sexy skin showed, covered with water droplets.

His stomach was flat with perfect six-pack abs on display. Dusky nipples were puckered—a temptation to lick and suck on them. One of his hands flattened near his lower belly to rub away water and she wished it were her palm on him instead. Or her mouth. She just wanted to explore every masculine inch of him up close and personal. The silence stretched, reminding her that he was probably watching her too. Alli peered into his eyes to judge his mood but he regarded her coolly, either unaffected by what had taken place or just really good at hiding his emotions.

“You can’t shower.”

That wasn’t what she expected him to say.

“Okay.”

He crossed the room to the dresser and opened the top drawer. His back was to her when he just dropped his towel to reveal his bare, beefy ass to step into a pair of loose cotton sweatpants.

Her gaze lifted from the dark-blue material to the faded scars on his back. She was tempted to ask how he’d received them but refrained. The last thing she wanted to do was cause him pain by making him relive his past.

880 turned and approached the bed. She tensed a little but he just sat heavily on the edge. His attention fixed on the muted television. Time crawled by as she waited for him to say or do anything but he just kept his back to her. He didn’t move but she finally did. She rolled over and crawled off the bed. A hand shot out and captured her wrist.

He stared at her when she met his gaze.

“Where are you going?”

“The bathroom.”

“I said you can’t shower.”

“I took one this morning. I was going to use the bathroom.”

His fingers released. “Don’t lock it.”

“Fine.”

The mirror was steamed over when she entered the bathroom. He obviously enjoyed really hot showers. She quickly used the bathroom and opened the storage cupboards to locate an extra toothbrush. It didn’t take long to brush her teeth, wash her face, and finally snag a hairbrush on her way back into his room.

880 watched her silently when she opened the door and cautiously approached. He glanced at her hand. “What are you going to do with that?”

“I thought I’d brush out your hair.”

His eyebrows lifted.

“I’ve done this for you at least a hundred times.”

Surprise registered on his features. “You did?”

She eased her knee on the mattress and scooted behind him. Her hand trembled a little as she started at the bottom to gently work the brush through the wet strands. “Yes. You’ve been using conditioner still. Good. I was worried they’d forget to show you what it was. We don’t want it to become a tangled mess again.”

He turned his face enough to watch her. She met his gaze before going back to her task. There was something intimate but nice about tending to him. Familiar. He wasn’t lying still anymore, though, flat on his back. It also made it easier to reach it all with him sitting. She loved his long hair.

Ted Treadmont had wanted to cut it after their patient was brought in but Alli had fought him tooth and nail. She’d personally cleaned it the first time and tended to the worst of the knotted mess it had been. It had taken her hours to work the tangles out since they’d estimated at the time of his rescue that he probably hadn’t been cleaned in weeks. It was worth all the effort as she studied her handiwork.

“All done.”

880 twisted his body to face her and his hand shot out to jerk the hairbrush from her fingers. He frowned. “Why would you brush my hair?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“You wouldn’t stroke it.”

It reminded her that she’d slapped him and she eased back on her haunches on the bed. “Did you use to brush it out when you were held in captivity?”

“My mate tended to my hair as I did hers. We used our fingers to comb it out after we bathed.”

“She had long hair too?”

He nodded. “The technicians didn’t cut our hair often. It was too dangerous.”

“Why would it be?”

A low rumble came from him. “We tried to kill them.”

“Oh.” She was glad she was sitting.

“They were the enemy.”

“Right.”

“Humans cause harm.”

“I don’t.”

“You’re a doctor.” He tossed the brush to the floor and turned toward her more, his hands braced on the bed as he half crouched. “I’m tired.

We are going to sleep.”

She’d slept poorly since she’d been arrested.

It couldn’t have been past seven at night but she didn’t point out how early it was or how they’d already taken a short nap. The idea of sleeping didn’t sound bad. “Okay.”

His gaze lowered. “Unbind your breasts.”

The breath caught in her lungs but she nodded, reaching behind her. It didn’t take long to unfasten the bra and pull the straps down her arms.

She reached up the front of her shirt and just pulled it off. 880 snatched it from her fingers to study it.

He shocked her by lifting the cups of her bra up to his nose and drawing in a deep breath. He stared into her eyes the entire time and then just tossed it away to the floor. His fist gripped the blankets to pull them down farther.

“Get under the blankets. You don’t keep body heat well.”

“Your body temperature runs slightly hotter than a typical human’s. Mine is normal.”

“Get under them.”

“You could say ‘please’.”

He snarled, flashing fangs. She moved, crawling up the bed and rolled over, lying on her side facing him. He dragged the covers over her legs to her waist and sprawled out on his back next to her. One hand grabbed his wet hair to drag it to the top of his pillow and he turned to look at her.

“Lift your head.”

She did what he wanted and he stretched his other arm out to offer her a pillow with his biceps.

It was intimate again as she lowered her cheek to rest against his hot skin. He was still a little damp but he smelled nice.

“Closer.”

Her gaze held his as she wiggled a few inches over until her shirt pressed against the side of his ribs. He was so big. He reached with his other arm and clicked off the television. The room darkened since the sun was almost down.