Page 103 of Tempting Little Thief

Black marble floors with a floating countertop and large golden bowl sinks rising above them, a fountain-style spout and black mirror that only allows for your reflection when you’re directly before it, a warm, golden tone light reflects around its surface, fanning out over the walls into a soft glow. The walls are the same black marble as the floor but gold-dusted.

Though that’s not what my gaze is frozen on.

It’s the golden candles on the three-tier corner shelves, each one’s flame flicking, when I’ve yet to light the new set. Same as the ones at the head of the jet bath, which sit angled in the same corner. The deep, arched chromotherapy tub is full and mountained with bubbles, my bottle of melatonin and marijuana-infused soap at the foot of the steps. A bottle of some wine I’ve never heard of the twins left sitting at its edge, the glass from my room decanter set beside it.

My pulse jumps up, but only by a single beat as I step into the private zone.

The closer I get, the deeper my frown grows. Steam rises through the soapy suds, and I dip my fingers inside. It’s as hot as it can get.

Just the way I like it.

This is exactly what I needed right now, water to swallow me whole without repercussion.

But how does he know this?

Slowly, I start to strip until I’m completely naked, and climb the three small stairs, stepping down into the oversized bath.

Sighing, I drop my head back on the embedded pillow and kick the jets on, but a few minutes in and one of my eyes pops open, staring at the wine bottle.

I reach over, grab it, and search for the opener, but it’s not there.

Rolling my eyes, I go to set it back down, but then the top catches my attention.

No cork.

A twist-top wine?

I fumble with the plastic seal a bit but get it opened easily enough and take a slow sniff.

Cinnamon and maybe … clover?

Pouring a small taste in the glass, I let it settle over my tongue.

Black cherry.

“Hmm.” My brows lift, and I pour a decent glass, lowering into the water once more.

My phone beeps again, and I reach for it, having almost forgotten how I got here.

Bastian: like the wine?

A small smile pulls at my lips and I lie back against the bath pillow.

Me: I do.

Bastian: good ’cause it took me way too fucking long to pick it out. The labels don’t say shit about what they taste like.

Something in my chest warms and I lower my lips beneath the water.

Me: you bought this wine for me?

Bastian: don’t get too excited. It was only five bucks.

Really?! I look to my glass, swirling it and taking another small sip, the flavor even more soothing this time, but then I remember how the boys were in my room along with the wine Bastian claims he purchased.

Me: what am I missing?

Rather than a text, my phone rings with an incoming video call. I accept, toes folding in the water when his rugged face comes into view, black hair falling in his eyes as he looks down into the camera.

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