Page 106 of Filthy Rich Santas

I push that word away again. It makes me feel cherished and anxious in equal measure, given my history of striving to please. And right now, I’m choosing not to let any outside thoughts intrude on this moment.

I’m choosing peace, even if just for a moment.

I’m choosing myself for once.

I must drift away for a bit, because the sound of a soft knock at the door has me startling back to awareness.

Tristan pushes the door open. “Just wanted to check on you.”

“Have I been in here too long?”

He smiles, his eyes warm as they meet mine. “No such thing. Not if you’re enjoying it.”

“I really am.”

“Then stay,” he says softly, crossing the room and kneeling beside the tub. He rolls up his sleeves, then dips his fingers into the water. “Still warm enough?”

“It could be warmer.”

He grins. “Let’s fix that then.” He turns on the faucet, and water swirls around my legs, feeling decadent. “Nice?”

“Very nice.”

“Mmm,” he hums in agreement, his eyes roaming over me. “You didn’t put your hair up.”

I reach up. The ends are all wet. “I should have.”

“No,” he says, capturing my hand and bringing it to his mouth. He kisses my fingers. “Would you let me wash it?”

My breath catches. “I… sure.”

He leaves me for a moment, then comes back with the cherry-blossom scented shampoo from my travel case.

“I fucking love this scent,” he murmurs as he pops the top open. Then he grins at me again. “But it smells even better on you.”

My breath catches in my throat, the warm intimacy of the moment almost undoing me. It’s not really sexual, but it’s very, verysensual.

As his fingers start working through my hair, I melt into his touch. Letting him care for me like this is addictive, and he does it like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Spoiling me without asking for anything in return.

No one has ever done this for me before, and I have to close my eyes when they start to sting with unbidden tears.

“Okay?” he asks softly, long fingers caressing my scalp.

“Perfect,” I murmur, because it is… even though the contrast between this moment and everything I’ve ever come to expect from a relationship hits me hard.

Not that this is arelationship, of course. But it’s still already better in every way than the one I had with Wade.

My ex-fiancé never did anything like this for me. I doubt he would have even considered it. He certainly wouldn’t haveoffered. And while I don’t miss being with him in the slightest, thinking about that sends a wave of sadness through me.

Wade was never abusive or cruel, but he also wasn’t… kind.

And I put up with that for way too long. I never even realized how low I’d set the bar with him. How little I expected.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Tristan murmurs, his fingers massaging my scalp in such a soothing, mesmerizing rhythm that makes it easy to answer yes to that.

“I really am.” I reach up and capture one of his hands, bringing it down and kissing his palm, soap and all. “Thank you,” I whisper, staring into his eyes.

He’s taken off his glasses, probably so they won’t fog up in here, and in this lighting, his eyes look more blue than gray.

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