“And then?” she asked.
His grin lit up the whole room. “We’ll see what the future holds for us.”
* * *
Lottie draped her clothing over a ladder-back chair in the bathroom, added a few more bubbles and bath salts to the warm water, and used an oversized clamp to hold her hair up in a messy bun. She stepped over the edge and sighed as she sank down into the sweet-smelling water. She had never been in a bathtub where she could stretch her legs all the way to the end, or have water up to her neck.
“Pure luxury,” she said. “This tub could be the deciding factor in whether I take the job Knox offered and if I live in this house or in my trailer.”
“Then I won’t take it out if and when I ever remodel,” Knox said.
Lottie’s eyes flew open, and she jerked her head around to be sure she didn’t imagine his voice. He stood in the doorway wearing no shirt, no shoes, and a big smile.
“What are you doing in here? Did you decide to join me?”
“Maybe tomorrow, but tonight I’m going to treat you like a queen,” he answered.
“Are you serious?”
He set a wicker basket full of products on the seat of the chair. “Yes, ma’am. I have searched this kingdom high and low for the proper things to help me on my quest.”
“Don’t ever tell me that you aren’t romantic,” she said with half a giggle.
Knox slid a sly wink toward her. “Of course, I’m romantic. How else would I have ever convinced the queen to spend a weekend with me? Now, if you will sit up, I will begin.”
She slid up to a seated position. “I’ve never been a queen. How will I know if you are doing a good job?”
“Listen to your heart.”
“First I have to take away your crown.” His warm breath caressed her neck in a way that sent goose bumps dancing down her spine.
“I would hardly call a hair clip a crown,” she said.
“Darlin’, crowns come in all sizes and shapes.”
He pushed the bubbles away so he could fill a stemmed wineglass with water and gently poured it through her hair. He kept up the procedure—time after time—until her hair was thoroughly wet and her whole body tingled with desire.
She was amazed that the heat her body gave off didn’t cause the bath water to boil when he massaged shampoo into her scalp.
“That feels so good,” she whispered.
“Has no one…”
She butted in before he could finish. “Never. No one has ever washed my hair for me except a few times in a beauty shop, and never a sexy man. Sweet Jesus,” she groaned when he started rinsing the soap from her hair.
“No, darlin’, I’m just plain old Knox Callahan, the kingof this castle.” He leaned down, strung kisses from the tender spot on her neck to her lips.
“What makes you a king?” she asked in a breathless tone.
“I’m a king because you are the queen,” he answered.
After he rinsed the soap from her hair, applied conditioner, and slowly rinsed it out, he piled her wet hair up on top of her head and used the clamp to hold it. She thought he had finished but not so. He filled his hands with bath oil and worked the knots and aches from her neck and shoulders, stopping every now and then to kiss her again.
“If this is how a queen feels, I don’t ever intend to give up my crown. Have you ever done this before?”
“No, I’ve been waiting for a woman who makes me feel like a king,” he answered. “That’s what makes you a queen, darlin’.”
“Lord have mercy!” she moaned. “That’s the most romantic thing you have said yet.”
