Page 145 of The Heir's Bargain

Dani snorted. "Very funny, Fynn."

"I'm not joking," I whispered.

Shaking her head, Dani lowered herself into the warm water, her hands gripping the sides of the porcelain tub as her arms trembled.

As she settled in the tub, I hesitated.

Over the years, I had visited many soldiers who were in recovery. One of the hardest things to watch was their view of themselves change, how their confidence faltered and withered away once they were wounded. I didn't know if I could witness Dani experience the same thing.

While she put up a good front, deep down, I knew she was hurting more than she let on. Perhaps what she wanted most was to be alone.

But she asked me to stay, I reminded myself.

Maybe being alone was the last thing she needed.

I grabbed the washcloth and sat on the stool. I placed my free hand softly on Dani’s shoulder to avoid scaring her away.

Still, her breath hitched, the muscles in her shoulders straining.

"It's just me, Dani," I whispered.

I didn’t move until she exhaled and her shoulders sank. Once she relaxed, I guided Dani back. When her back was against the porcelain, I went to the other end of the tub. Dani's arms were wrapped around her legs. Bubbles covered the water’s surface, and the scent of orange filled the air.

Squatting down, I held out a hand.

"What?" She asked, her head snapping up as she squeezed her legs tighter to her torso.

"Give me your leg," I said, wiggling my fingers, hand still extended.

"Why?"

I tilted my head to the side. "Dani, you could barely get into the tub by yourself. Let me take care of you."

"I'm more than capable of washing my feet, Fynn." Her brows bunched together, forcing that stubborn little vein to pulse in the center of her forehead, a perfect little Y.

I swallowed the inappropriate chuckle in my throat and held out the washcloth. "Then, by all means, prove it."

Dani looked at the washcloth, then back at me. With a look that could have burned a hole through paper, Dani resigned and leaned back against the tub.

"Fine," she grumbled. She pointed a firm finger at me, the pain that had just covered her features practically extinguished. "But if you dare try to tickle me, there are plenty of knives in my room that I wouldn't mind chucking at you."

"Do you truly think you’ll be able to get to them fast enough?" I asked, almost failing to hold back my laughter.

Narrowing her eyes, Dani ran her hand through the water and struck.

Water flew in the air, splashing me in my face.

Wiping a hand over my face and pushing back my damp hair, I winked. "I promise to be a complete gentleman."

Dani rolled her eyes, but a small smile slipped over her lips.

Grinning from the small victory, I lathered the washcloth with one of the essential oils beside the porcelain tub. The scent of cinnamon filled the room as I massaged the oil into the cloth. As I wrung the washcloth, I chuckled and said, "This is just like when I was forced to give my grandmother a bath."

Dani kicked, causing more water to spray out and onto my clothes.

Immediately, she pressed a hand to her side.

Shaking off the water, I sighed, my mouth forming a flat line. "You're only hurting yourself when you do that."

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