“That is . . . lovely,” he said, his voice smoky with appreciation. He skimmed a hand down my back, his touch lifting goose bumps across my body. “You are a beautiful creature, Merit.”
“Can you help with my hair?” I asked, pointing to the knot that was now hanging heavily at the nape of my neck.
“Of course.”
He walked forward, and began unraveling the curls and braids. It took a solid couple of minutes to pull out the pins. When he was done, I flipped my head over, shook out my hair, flipped it over again, scrubbed fingers through my hair.
“Even better,” he murmured.
I looked back at Ethan, his eyes—silver with emotion—tracking my body like a man with a long-denied thirst. “All of this is mine,” he said, trailing the back of his hand across my bare arm.
“I love you,” I told him, putting a hand on his face. “But I would shove you out of the way to get into the shower right now.”
He laughed. “I’m glad to know where I stand, Sentinel. And in this particular case, I won’t stand in your way.”
• • •
The bathroom was nearly as large as the bedroom, with lots of pale marble and a curvy soaking tub big enough for a crowd. Fluffy towels were piled on a bookcase near the door, and a chandelier of glass shards cast pretty shadows across the floor.
“Impressive,” I said.
“Only the best for my Sentinel.” He turned both faucets, and water and steam began to fill the room.
“I could use a drink,” he said. “Keep an eye on the water.”
I nodded, pulled the lid from a glass jar of what looked like purple dust dotted with tiny dried flowers beside the tub, sniffed. Lavender and something slightly astringent. Eucalyptus, maybe. “Fancy some bath potpourri?” I called out.
“I’m not entirely sure what that is,” he said from the other room. “Although I’d prefer not to smell like a Parisian parfumerie.”
“I don’t think that will be a problem,” I said, and scooped some of the salts and sprinkled them over the water. The smell was heavenly, a soothing balm that pushed thoughts of battle and blood out of my mind.
“This is the second time I’ve found you nearly asleep near water,” Ethan said. He’d taken off his shirt, his shoes, his belt. He wore only black trousers, the waistband framing the bricks of muscle across his abdomen, and just skirting the diagonal muscles that marked his hips.
I opened my eyes, took the glass of wine he offered, its color as pale as light. “Not asleep,” I said, taking a sip. “Just trying to be somewhere else.”
He lifted an eyebrow.
“Not away from you,” I clarified. “Just away from that.”
He nodded, brushed a lock of hair from my face. “There will be more questions, more demands. So let’s take tonight, Merit, just for ourselves. We may not have Paris, but we’ll at least have memories from our wedding night that don’t involve violence.”
“That sounds good.”
He turned off the water, then took my glass, setting both of them on the edge of the tub, then went to his knees in front of me.
“I’m afraid it’s too late for a proposal,” I said, swallowing hard against rising lust. I didn’t have to fight that feeling—not with my husband, not tonight. But the lust was fueled by exhaustion, and I didn’t want to rush this. Not our first time as husband and wife.
“It seems you have me on my knees, Sentinel,” he said, and ran his hands up one leg. My eyes closed instinctively, my head dropping back. I focused on the sensations of his hands on me, those long and skillful fingers provoking as they slipped, one inch at a time, up my thighs. He unclipped one stocking from the delicate lace garter that held it, skimmed the tips of his fingers against me.
I looked down at him. “I’d say you’re tending me again, but I’m not sure that’s accurate.”
He looked up at me, eyes silvered with emotions. “I have no tending in mind, Sentinel. I intend to make you desperate, and leave you breathless.”
As if on cue—as if he mastered my body as well as my House—the breath shuddered out of me.
He slipped down the second stocking, tossed it away as he had the first, and then slipped down the garter, fingers skimming my core. I had to reach out for balance as sensation threatened to topple me.
He rose again, took my hand, placed it against his heart. “This beats for you, eternally.”