A part of me thinks she’s a little grateful she won’t have to melt on this beach while she waits for me to bathe.
Astrid hesitates. “You’re not going to try to run again or anything, right?”
“I’m just going to wash. Promise.” I mean it. No way I’m chancing getting apprehended by the Tin Man on steroids again. And she was right about those goblins. When I make my next escape attempt—which I will—I’m going to be strategic about it.
Astrid gives me a grateful smile as she leaves, and I turn to inspect the stone shelf. There’s a small basket, and I fill it with a bar of soap that smells like cherries and a few mysterious vials of goopy cream. Hopefully one of them is shampoo.
I look around a couple times before I strip off my clothes. Astrid promised I was alone. I peel off my ripped scarf and my once white t-shirt, which is now a more gruesome brown tie-dye. My leggings are torn, and I never want to see these socks again.
I take my basket and pad across the soft sand into the water. It’s fucking glorious. The water is velvety soft, and warmth engulfs me as I let out a long sigh. The basket floats in the water and I drag it along, wading deeper.
Sand gives way to smooth rock. Judging by the color of the water, there are probably some parts where I won’t be able to touch at all.
I paddle my way to the waterfall in the back where I scrub every crevasse of my body with the cherry soap and dunk under the water. It leaves a salty taste on my lips. I massage the gel into my hair. It smells like a tropical cornucopia: pineapples, mangos, and coconuts.
Then I step under the waterfall, which seems to come from the ceiling itself, and let the water pound over me. When my scalp feels thoroughly rattled, I take the opportunity to paddle around the pool. I could stay here forever.
A splash sounds at the entrance of the hot springs. Astrid must have returned. A soft current of water shifts closer.
“Astrid?” I call out.
There’s no reply, and a strange prickle travels down my spine.
“Astrid?”
“I can be Astrid if you want, love,” a smooth, cocky male voice responds.
I let out a peep of alarm and push my basket in front of my chest as someone steps out from behind one of the rocks.
A man.
No, a fae.
A fae man is in the hot springs with me.
14
Rosalina
Holyfuck,he’sgorgeous.
He’s so tall his entire torso is out of the water, and I can clearly see every inch of his muscular chest. He’s totally ripped, and not in the way Lucas was, with his specialized muscles from hours at the gym. This fae’s muscles are broad and toned, created from actually moving, and—if the small scars and nicks that line his body are any indication—from fighting.
This water is so freaking clear I could probably see lower if I wanted to. Maybe a small, very small, part of me is curious. But I am no Peeping Tom, so I force my eyes up. Only, ogling his eight-pack abs and perfect pecs doesn’t seem less creepy at the moment.
“Enjoying the view?” He grins, all white teeth and crooked smile. “I don’t blame you.”
Only my nose is above the waterline as I dunk in the pool. I need to get out of here. Except there are zero clothes waiting for me until Astrid returns, and even if there were, I can’t leave these hot springs without giving him a complete eyeful. My only option is to wait him out.
Of course, he doesn’t just have an amazing body. Golden blond hair grazes his shoulders, with small braids threading pieces away from his face. He’s got dark brows, and it looks like his nose may have been broken a few times—which is strange because if he’s fae, shouldn’t he heal quickly? Or is that my imagination talking? His nose doesn’t distract from how handsome he is, though. Like his crooked smile, everything about him is captivating to behold.
My core tightens and I flush as, with growing horror, I realize he’s studying me the way I’m studying him. I clutch my basket close to my chest and back away, hoping the ripples in the water will stop him from getting too good a look at me, suddenly self-conscious of the soft swell of my stomach and my rubbing thighs. A memory of Lucas slapping my legs to see how they jiggled flashes in my mind.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, sticking my head out of the water enough to sputter the question.
“Bathing,” the fae says, finally lowering that distracting muscular chest into the water. “And inspecting Kel’s new pet.”
Hot rage simmers inside me and I’m surprised the water doesn’t boil. “I’m no one’s pet.”