She had definitely suffered enough to be deserving of a truelove mate, and so had he, so she didn't doubt that they were each other's reward.
Ruvon rinsed the soap from her back with the handheld spigot, then returned it to its place and reached for a fresh cloth.
"You wanted to take off the makeup."
"I do."
"Do you want me to do this?"
He looked unsure about performing the task, but she was too languid and relaxed to do it herself.
"Yes, please."
He took a clean cloth, dampened it with water from the faucet, wrung it out, and then, holding her chin, he started wiping away the makeup. He did it gently, with the same focused patience he'd used to wash every other part of her. The cloth moved over her cheeks, then her forehead, then around her eyes, where he was doubly careful. Angelica had piled so much makeup onto her face that morning that it took several passes of the cloth to get it all off, and each pass came back with more gunk on it.
When he finished, he leaned back, looked at her, and smiled.
"There you are."
"Did I go anywhere?"
"You were hiding under all of that. You looked beautiful with the makeup, but you are even more beautiful without it."
She laughed, and it came out closer to a snort. "You're probably the only person who'd say that. My mother, my aunts, my sisters, and my cousins all said that I looked like a movie star."
"You did look like a movie star, but that's not who I fell in love with. I fell in love with my Arezoo." He leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.
Was it possible to keep falling in love with this male?
Arezoo felt tears gather in the corners of her eyes, but she commanded them to recede because she didn't want Ruvon to interpret them the wrong way.
Reaching for a towel from the rack beside the tub, he held it open for her, and as she stood up carefully, water sheeting off her body, she saw him swallow.
She stepped out of the tub onto the bathmat, and that was when she noticed his trousers.
The black tuxedo pants were soaked from the knees down. He'd been kneeling in the puddle the whole time he'd been washing her. He'd just knelt there in cold water for however long it took to make sure she felt warm and cared for, and he probably hadn't even noticed the state of his trousers.
That was when whatever last small piece of nerves she'd been holding on to dissolved.
Ruvon wrapped the towel around her, and before she could say anything about his pants, he scooped her up.
"Ruvon."
"I'm carrying you to bed. I don't want you to slip on the puddle."
That was such a transparent excuse, but she liked being in his arms, so she didn't argue and let him carry her.
She'd forgotten about the pink rose petals on the bedspread, which she was about to crush.
It doesn't matter, she commanded the practical voice in her mind to get quiet. Her wedding night was the perfect occasion for silly romantic things, not practicality like a bedspread that might get stained from the crushed petals.
Ruvon set her down on top of them without giving them a second thought and stepped back, leaving her wrapped in the towel.
That was a little disappointing. She'd imagined him unwrapping her like a gift. She'd read that in a romance novel.
No matter. She had been playing the diva seductress since Ruvon had carried her into their home, and she was on a roll.
Unwinding the towel from around her body, she let it fall open.
