On that thought, he trudged up the stairs and made his way to his reluctant bride’s boudoir. He rapped on the door and when he didn’t get a response, entered the room to the sounds of running water.
He had one of two options—leave and let her have her privacy, or shower her with affection in the shower. Option two earned his vote. As long as he proceeded with caution.
He stripped off his shirt, inadvertently popping a button, then sat on the edge of the mattress to toe out of his shoes. He carelessly kicked them off, barely missing the French doors leading to a balcony. In an effort to compose himself, he removed his slacks and underwear with more patience, then tossed them aside on the window seat to his right. When he rose from the bed, he realized he would have to keep a tight hold on his libido. He also realized he wasn’t the only one standing.
“Down, old chap,” he muttered when he walked to the door, then paused to take a deep breath to regain some semblance of control.
If he played his cards correctly, this could be the first step in demonstrating that he could be the kind husband his wife needed.
* * *
Nasira needed a shower and a good night’s sleep. She also needed to know exactly what Sebastian was saying to her brother, but that could wait until morning.
Standing beneath the spray, she closed her eyes, bent on washing away the memories of those intimate moments under the stars in the rear—of all things—a Texas truck. Still, her mind whirled back to the interlude and the way Sebastian had so easily unearthed sensations she had greatly missed. Sensations she still experienced with a succession of tremors and tingling. Her husband had so masterfully manipulated her into oblivion with only a few strokes, and once more the heat began to make itself known....
Nasira shook off the images, stepped to the side of the spray and opened her eyes, determined to regain some perspective without undue influence from her spouse until she was forced to face him again.
The plan went awry the moment the glass door opened, Sebastian walked into the shower and moved behind her, as if he had a standing invitation.
His audacity momentarily stunned her into silence. Yet when he reached around her and grasped the bottle of shampoo from the mosaic tile shelf, she spun on him, putting herself in close proximity to a very naked, very virile, very stimulated man. “Do you mind?”
He took a quick sniff before placing some of the liquid in his palm. “I do not mind at all. In fact, I like the lavender. Now turn around.”
She gathered all the reasons to resist him. Reasons that had ironically kept him from her over the past few months. “You may turn around and leave.”
“Not until I wash your hair.”
That would qualify as an unusual request. “Why?”
“Could you humor me, please?”
She caught the faint scent of alcohol. “Are you intoxicated?”
“Only with your beauty.”
Clearly the liquor was speaking for him. “I smell scotch.”
“I might have had a drink. Or two.”
“I consider that inadvisable in light of your fatigue.”
“I’m not too exhausted or too mashed to wash your hair. In fact, it would be an honor to do it. And I promise you will enjoy it.”
Granted, she would, though she wondered who had kidnapped her stoic husband and replaced him with this considerate clone. She mulled the offer over a few minutes and surrendered to the prospect of pleasure—with one concession. “Oh, all right. But only if you will leave after you are finished.”
“Agreed.”
Nasira faced the tiled wall again and attempted to feign indifference. Yet when Sebastian slid his hands into her hair and began to massage her scalp, she practically melted against him. “That feels exquisite,” she murmured.
Sebastian brushed a kiss across her cheek. “You deserve to feel that way. I recognize I’ve neglected my duties and haven’t exactly been a doting husband.”
She had never expected him to be doting, yet she did approve of this version of Sebastian. Then suddenly his hands drifted from her hair to her shoulders and came to rest on her breasts. Odd how he had not touched her in six months and now, as if someone had snapped on a sexual light switch, the former version of her husband had returned.
“You are exquisite,” he murmured as he pressed against her bottom.
“You are a cad.”
“Henry is the cad. I have no control over him.”
Nasira stifled a laugh. “I have always wondered what would possess a man to name a cherished part of his anatomy after his prized horse.”
He winked. “It’s quite logical because that horse is a premiere stallion.”
She elbowed him in the ribs. “Since you are finished washing my hair, I need to rinse out the shampoo and you need to vacate the premises.”
Against her better judgment, she turned her back to him, stepped beneath the flowing water and soaked her hair, giving Sebastian complete access to her body. He took supreme advantage of her vulnerable position by running his palms down her torso, over the bend of her waist and on to her hips.
Regardless of her nagging need for him, Nasira sidestepped Sebastian and sent him a frustrated look. “You agreed that when you were finished, you would leave.”
He took the blue washcloth folded on the shelf and added a small dollop of gel. “I’m not finished yet.”
Unable to move, Nasira watched as Sebastian washed her body, beginning with her shoulders and arms before he moved down to her breasts, and then her belly. He knelt and bathed each of her legs gently, all the while smiling up at her until he straightened. His crystal blue eyes seemed to darken as he shifted his attention to between her thighs. He lingered there for a time, teasing slightly, setting her on edge before he stepped back and draped the washcloth over the chrome rack to his left.
“There you go,” he said. “Clean as a whistle.”
“Why are you doing this, Sebastian?”
His eyes looked a bit hazy now. “Because I want you to relax. I’m certain you will sleep much better now.”
Not very likely. Not when she still wanted him in every way. “I am onto you, Sebastian.”
He attempted an innocent expression. “I’m sure I do not know what you mean.”
“Yes, you do. However, you can attempt to seduce me from dawn to dusk but we will still remain at an impasse.”
“I was simply trying to be considerate.” He grabbed the bottle of gel and began lathering his body. “Granted, a dawn-to-dusk seduction sounds interesting. Perhaps we shall try that in the near future.”
“I’m going to bed now,” she said as she quickly rinsed off without looking at him.
“I will join you shortly.”
“I’ll make you a nice place on the rug.”
“I so cherish being treated like the family hound.”
She sent him a quelling look as she opened the glass door. “We agreed on that arrangement.”
He gave her a half smile. “Spoilsport.”
As usual, he glossed over the seriousness of their situation with wit and sarcasm. Angry with him, and herself, Nasira left the shower, dried off, wrapped the towel around her and tucked it closed between her breasts. She