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‘I doubt you could manage that without touching me.' She raised her eyebrows and there was something provocative about the expression.

His lips curved up at the thought of her hot, steamy and naked. ‘There won't be much space between us in the shower cubicle. We could end up touching.'

‘A hot shower would be great.'

She was too compliant and it put him on high alert, but the horny dog in him was up for it. He'd take his chances and hope like hell he didn't regret it. ‘Knew you'd see sense.'

‘Why don't you get me a towel?' she purred.

‘Sure.' How dumb did she think he was? Better get whatever she was going to try out of the way. He turned and started to stand, moving towards the cupboard that held the towels. He saw the flash of metal in her hand at the edge of his vision. He swung around and caught her by the wrist and squeezed so hard he could feel her bones shifting.

She cried out.

‘Let it go, Ruth,' he growled.

The scalpel dropped to the floor. He swept down, scooped it up and released her.

She moaned holding her wrist, rocking back and forward. Fear filled her gaze.

Jack stalked from the room. Muscles bunched, adrenaline firing, fury eating at him. Normally he'd strike a deathblow to the combatant at this point. Instead, he focused on locking the scalpel away safely in the weapon's cupboard while taking in deep breaths to calm himself. It didn't work. He thumped his fist into the wall. How the fuck had she managed to get her hands on that scalpel? That damned recruit who'd unpacked her medical supplies was going to have some explaining to do tomorrow. He strode back into the bedroom.

Ruth had moved out of her seat and was backed up against the wall, her face chalk-white and her breathing erratic.

‘You owe me. Time for that naked shower you promised me.'

Chapter 5

She'd had one chance with a weapon and she'd blown it, but she'd been trained to save lives not take them. Not that she'd wanted to kill Jack, just disable him long enough to get the key off his neck and get down to her boat. From the blazing look in his eyes, he wouldn't believe her if she tried to explain herself.

Jack filled the doorway, all muscled physique and raw intent. His shoulders, arms and torso were so tense his abdominal muscles laced. The man was a bomb that needed defusing. Whatever he wanted, he was determined to get it tonight.

Fear parched Ruth's mouth. ‘You made a vow not to touch me.'

‘I kept it until you tried that trick with the scalpel. The deal's off. Trying to stab me is not behaving.'

‘So is imprisoning me.' Why couldn't she get through to him that what he was doing was wrong?

‘I'm keeping you alive. Out there. You wouldn't be. Your survival skills suck.'

When he shifted his weight and leaned against the doorjamb with the faintest of smiles, the memory of his behaviour in the examination room haunted her. She wasn't fooled by the calm expression on his face. Her attempt to take him down just made him more dangerous. He was about to pounce.

‘What would you have done in my place?' God help her. He could do anything he wanted and no one would stop him.

‘I would have made sure the blade took out the carotid artery.' The look in his eyes told her he was lethal.

‘I've never killed anyone. That wasn't my intent. I just wanted to get away.' Her voice shook as she gulped in air.

‘Yeah, I got that. But you broke our deal, so now you're going to make it up to me.'

Her heart rate soared. ‘What do you want?' Her voice was small.

‘A long, hot shower with you in it.'

Ruth brushed her hair from her face, aware she was sweating. ‘And if I don't agree?'

‘That wasn't a request. You can strip for me here or in the bathroom, that's the only choice you're getting.'

Her wrist throbbed where he'd squeezed it. For a moment she'd thought he'd crushed the bones with his bare hands. A headache pulsed in her right temple and the eye that Sue had clipped felt swollen and sore. ‘Are you going to hurt me?'

‘No way. You're too precious for that.'

‘Precious?' If she didn't strip for him, he'd rip her clothes off and from the super-charged look of him, he'd enjoy doing it too.

‘My men need a doctor. I need you to heal them. What I don't need is you trying to take me out with a blade in my down time. I face death everyday. I don't need this shit.' He sauntered towards her, put his arm around her waist and led her to the bathroom.

Her feet seemed leaden as she stumbled forward. This time she steeled herself not to lash out at him. He got off on it. Her attempt to stab him had just made him all the more determined to dominate her. She could see that now. Jack was so different from any of the men she dealt with professionally. The specialists all worked long hours and weren't so relentlessly physical. Violent patients they'd restrain and drug, but Jack didn't come into that category either. Everything he did was well thought out and planned. As well as being an authoritative jerk, he was indecently handsome in his almost naked state. His skin was hot and smooth against hers as he walked her into the bathroom. For a licentious moment she imagined what it would feel like to have his hot soaped-up body covering hers. Many women would enjoy the domination. But with the world already falling apart around her, she couldn't tolerate the thought of losing control.

She stood stiff and frozen when they entered the bathroom. She simply couldn't comply with taking off her clothes.

Jack closed the door behind them. Clearly he didn't suffer her anxiety because he peeled off his jocks and stood superbly naked in front of her. ‘Need help?'

She shook her head. At least he wasn't erect because an erection would have freaked her out completely and right now the guy was evidence that the size of a guy's hands and feet were good predictors.

‘Words left you again?' He gave that half-smile she hated as if he found the situation amusing. He closed the distance between them and unbuttoned her shirt, pushing it off her shoulders so that she was exposed. Her nipples peaked of their own accord and she bit back a curse. Resistance would excite him so she forced herself not to fight or curse him. Stripping her of her jeans quickly followed.

He left her, opened the shower door and turned on the tap. ‘Don't look so nervous, you'll enjoy this.'

‘I would if you weren't here.' Some of the fear left her at that point. Jack had a certain honesty about him. When he'd said he wouldn't hurt her she'd believed him, but she doubted she'd feel enjoyment with him so close. She slid past him, careful not to touch. It wouldn't take much and he would be on her. She knew that.

Jack followed her in and closed the shower door. He bent and squatted in front of her.

Ruth flattened herself against the shower wall. What the hell was he going to do? Every nerve ending, every cell froze. The man was barely inches from her. From her position above him she could see he was grinning as if he'd won the pussy lottery. When he stood, he produced a shampoo bottle, which he'd retrieved from the floor. Anyone would think he'd visited nirvana from the expression she wanted to slap off his face. She was beginning to think Sue was right when she'd tried to convince her to laser everything off. Her bright red thatch stood out against her pale skin.

‘I'm going to start with washing your hair.'

‘Really? Just which hair were you planning to start on? Here, give me that.' She snatched at the shampoo bottle but he held it out of her reach and laughed.

‘Impatient, aren't you?' He squirted some into his hands.

‘I'm perfectly capable of doing it myself.'

‘Yeah, I got that. I hear you say it a lot. You like to do everything yourself. You've probably got a four speed vibrator stored in your bedside drawer.'

How did he know that?

He lathered up her hair, his big hands massaging the shampoo into her scalp. Hot water beat down on her head and shoulders. It was glorious. Just for a second, she forgot that she hated him. ‘You're wrong.'

‘Yeah? What about?'

The man had magic in his fingers when it came to touch. Up close his chest was broad, his arms muscled and he had flat, hard, lickable nipples. She closed her eyes, determined not to be mesmerised by his perfect physicality. ‘My vibrator's six speed. Better than a man.'

He turned her around so that she had her back to him, then he tilted her head, washing the shampoo out of her hair. ‘That's because you've been with the wrong man.' He reached down in front of her and stroked the tip of his finger across her clit.

A pulse of pleasure hit her and she gasped.

‘Guess your vibrator must have run out of batteries. You're overdue an orgasm.' He chuckled before bending and picking up the conditioner bottle.

Her nipples peaked and while part of her wanted to curse him, the traitorous part of her body sang. As much as she didn't want to admit it, not even to herself, Jack's touch had the power to turn her on. The bastard. Soap stung her eyes. She spun around to face him and tilted her head upward to wash it out. ‘Don't you dare touch me between the legs.'

He slathered on the conditioner, his glorious fingers spreading it through her hair. ‘Just proving a point. Did it surprise you how much you enjoyed it?'

She would have glared at him, but she was too busy washing the conditioner out of her hair and eyes. ‘I didn't,' she protested, spitting water out of her mouth.

‘Maybe you'll enjoy this more.'

When she felt his two soapy hands massaging her breasts, his thumb and forefingers gently tweaking her nipples, she arched into his hands. Jack had been right, she was well overdue an orgasm. Her former lover had been concerned about his own pleasure and she, so ready to bask in his specialist knowledge, had let him get away with it. ‘Stop soaping me. Stop touching me.' Turning her face out of the stream of water, she grabbed his hands, which were heading between her legs.

‘You were going to say, “I'll do it myself”.' The half-grin was back and his green eyes sparkled with amusement.

‘Give me the soap.' On taking it, she lathered her hands not daring to take her gaze off him but he tilted the shower so that it sprayed right into her face. Blinded she felt him circle one arm around the back of her waist holding her in place, while the soapy fingers of his other hand slid between her legs. The delicious, slippery sensation made her moan out loud. He worked his fingers back and forward over her sensitive pussy lips. She opened her mouth to protest, but his own came down to claim hers.

Jack could kiss. It was full, sensuous, take-no-prisoners claiming. He didn't use his tongue, but as his lips moved over hers, he held her close and stroked her between her legs. The pleasure was so intense that she couldn't fight, couldn't struggle. He had her trapped in his powerful arms working two of his fingers into her to moisten them and sliding them over and over her most sensitive part. Her whole body tensed at his daring invasion and he stroked her rhythmically, until she groaned and writhed under his control. Possession. The word throbbed in her mind like a heart beat. How did he know how to touch her clit so deliciously that she was prisoner to his will? The thought took her to the brink until she shattered.

Fighting to break his kiss, she jerked her head away, and gulped in air as another orgasm quickly followed, the rush of intensity zinging up her spine and exploding. Fireworks filled her head, so powerful she could hardly see. A deep groan left her lips as wave upon wave overtook her. Her legs wobbled but he held her tightly, his body pressing her up against the shower stall, his hard cock nudging her hip. His forefinger slid expertly over her clitoris, building her up to another orgasm while he worked one fingertip into her anus. She clenched down on the fingertip, not wanting it. The unauthorised intrusion along with his rapid clitoral stroking sent a final orgasm through her whole body, so vibrant that she cried out loud, the sound of her pleasure echoing off the walls. Outraged she shoved at him, slapping at his face, his shoulders, his chest until he finally released her. ‘How dare you touch me there!'

Raw carnal desire lit up his face and one hand went to his cock. Thick and long, the man had been born with more than his share and no shame either. He was sucking on the fingers he'd had in her vagina or perhaps the one he'd slid into her anus. Hell she didn't know. Didn't want to know. The man had put a finger where no one had dared to before. Filthy, disgusting pig.

She flung open the shower screen door, grabbed a towel and stormed out of the bathroom. She dried herself, furious that he'd worked an orgasm, correction—multiple orgasms—that not even her vibrator had enticed out of her. Arsehole! Hell, double hell. That was not the time to use that word. She hoped he was having fun back there in the shower stall alone. Grabbing her long pyjama pants and T-shirt out of her duffle bag, she pulled them on, conscious of the pleasurable throbbing between her legs. She was still wet there and no amount of drying herself was going to get rid of the evidence. She made sure she was dressed by the time he entered the bedroom, his towel hugging him low around his hips.

‘Ready for sleep? I left a new toothbrush in the tooth cup in the bathroom for you in case you didn't pack one.' He mentioned it so casually as if he hadn't done anything wrong as if invading every part of her body was normal and natural.

She couldn't answer him. Didn't answer him. Instead, Ruth strode out and walked back into the bathroom. He'd dried the floor and the floor mat was neatly placed in front of the sink. She put toothpaste on her new brush and cleaned her teeth. How could someone so sexually voracious be so neat? It was like he put his life into compartments. Despite her disgust, her body hummed and she longed to climb into bed without the fear that a braindead would break down her bedroom door and attack her. After she'd cleaned her teeth, she sat on the toilet and tried to empty her bladder. Sated and swollen, she couldn't pee, so she sat trying to think of something unpleasant. Instead she kept seeing Jack's face and the sheer carnality of his desire. Being taken by him would be sensational, but then he'd think he owned her. Not happening, Jack. Think Mrs Nichols. Guilt. Misery. Ah, the stream started and seemed to go forever. Relief. Sleep. She needed it. Finished, she pulled up her pants, flushed and washed her hands.