Page 61 of His Christmas Wife

After standing, he offered his hand.

Tamping down her instinctive self-consciousness, she accepted his help. Then she was in front of him, inches separating them, the scent of unrestrained desire lingering in the air.

Impossibly she wanted him again.

If he pulled her closer, she wouldn’t resist. And that made him more than dangerous.

After the space of a few heartbeats, he released her, sending a ridiculous shiver of disappointment through her.

Kaylee followed him into the ensuite, where steam billowed from the soaking tub.

“Smells good.” As he turned off the water, she inhaled deeply. “Is that lavender?”

“No idea. Grabbed a package of Epsom salts.” As if confounded, he shrugged. “Don’t care about the scent. I just want to ensure your body isn’t too sore.” He swept his gaze over her, allowing it to linger on her breasts. “For very selfish reasons.”

She swallowed deeply. That he too was thinking of being together again thrilled her.

“Your towel is on this heated rack.” He pointed.

“You’ve thought of everything.”

While she eased into the massive tub, he entered the walk-in shower with its glass surround.

She sank down to her chin, letting her eyelids sleepily drift shut and allowing the water to soothe her. Her body was achier than she’d realized. But the warmth and bath salts relaxed her completely.

A few moments later, she looked at him, watching him lather, his impressive muscles rippling beneath the cascading water. Then he stroked his enormous erection.

At that moment, he caught her looking at him. He paused, hand curved around his dick, and hormones flooded her. This man—Dominant—seemed to own her responses.

“See something you like?” His grin was quick, quirky.

“As a matter of fact…” Maybe because her defenses had been lowered by what they’d shared, she answered honestly. “Yes. I do.”

He turned off the faucet, then stared at her. “Likewise.”

Like a voyeur, she watched him rinse, then shuck water from his skin, then grab a towel as he stepped out of the shower unit.

As he dried off—the size of his cock not diminishing at all—he glanced at her. “How’s the bath?”

“It’s perfect. An excellent suggestion.” And how she’d like to have a tub like this instead of one that was contractor grade.

After she finally drained the water, he dried her off. “I want to look at your skin to see if you have any bruises.”

When she returned home after their scene at the Quarter, she’d examined her skin as best as she could and couldn’t find a single mark. Secretly she’d hoped, even expected, that the raised lettering on the paddle would have left some sort of imprint.

“Please lean forward and put your forearms on the vanity.”

“Sir?” In confusion, she furrowed her eyebrows.

“For my inspection.”

Feeling a little vulnerable, she waited. Frost scraped his thumbnail across several parts of her buttocks.

“A few traces of red but nothing bad.” He opened a nearby drawer and pulled out a tube of arnica. “But I will take good care of you regardless.”

She remained where she was while he applied the cream, but then he extended his exploration, stroking between her legs. “Sir!”

“You’re wet.”

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