He chuckled, taking my hand and leading me to the bathroom. There I could smell the magic in the air, and it worked to fill the large marble bathtub with steaming hot water with rose petals in it. Where did the rose petals come from? I wasn’t sure. But they filled the tub along with the water. Theseus placed his glass at the tub’s edge before beginning to remove his pants once more. When I did not move, he glanced back at me.
“Are you not joining me?”
He was ignoring it, my magic, precisely as he said, and I wanted to. Nodding, I placed my glass down as well before taking off his shirt. Arm outstretched, he helped me into the water first, and the temperature was perfect. Quickly, I sat down and sank deeper into it, going down under the water for a moment, the salt from the sea washing off my skin. When I came back up, he was alre
ady seated on the opposite end of the tub…watching me, his glass in hand, a smug look on his lips, his eyes amused and lustful.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing.” He shook his head. “I’m merely enjoying the view.”
Never had I been so grateful to be a vampire. It was so much easier to be confident when I knew that even after running through the treetops, swimming through the sea, sex in the sea, and running back, I was sure I was still beautiful. A little bit dirty but beautiful still—just like he was. I tried not to be distracted by the sight of him perched against the back of the tub, a knee raised out of the water, and rose petals stuck to his skin. I turned slightly, running my hand through my wet curls.
“The view? Even though you’ve already seen everything while we were at sea,” I said finally, finger combing my hair.
“As a lover of art and an artist yourself, you must know that no view is ever the same. A bowl of fruit in a king’s palace is different from a bowl of fruit on a peasant’s table.” My gaze drifted back to him as he ran his fingers around the top of his glass. “And thus, the view of you in the sea, swimming along with whales like a thing of myth and fantasy, is a much different view than you here, across from me in the bath as my mate. For this is a sight only I shall see.”
It was not just the water making me feel hot.
“You were the only one who saw me at sea,” I muttered, reaching to take my glass.
“You forget the fisherman.” He frowned.
I couldn’t help it. I smiled. “The fisherman barely saw me, and you are jealous?”
He did not reply, only drank.
I laughed, drinking, too.
“Jealous or not jealous”—he licked his lips—“this sight shall belong to me alone.”
“How possessive.”
“Such is the nature of vampires. You are no different.”
“How am I not different?”
“Ask the ashes which were once the painting of Lady Godiva,” he teased.
Glaring at him, I forced myself to drink more, to give myself time to think of a response.
“It not like I meant to do that,” was all I could think to say.
“But you desired it.” He was happy to remind me. “Why? Because you are as possessive as I am. I am merely more honest, young one.”
“Do you want to mate me or pick a fight with me?”
“Both.”
Like a child, I flicked water at him, making him laugh at me.
“Come to me,” he demanded, his eyes looking over the mounds of my breast in the water.
“No,” I said, leaning back against the marble, lifting my knee, and sitting as he was sitting.
His eyebrow raised. “And just when I was beginning to think you were losing your stubbornness toward me at last.”
“Never. I shall be stubborn for all eternity. What will you do about it?” I nearly sang, finishing off my glass.