“I must have fallen asleep,” she mumbled into his tunic, shifting her cheek against him. “Just…resting my eyes. The water was so warm.”
“Auryn,” he began, but she interrupted him with a yawn.
“You said I could bathe.”
“I didn’t say you could fall asleep in the bath,” he replied. “And casting when you just woke up days ago. Are you trying to undo everything you’ve healed?”
She wiggled in protest. “I was cooking.”
He blinked. “What?”
“I just wanted to cook by myself.”
“Cook?”
“That’s what bathing feels like,” she murmured. “Cooking in broth.”
Kailorien stared down at her, entirely undone. “You think you were…cooking?”
“I’m small. The water’s warm. I was definitely simmering.”
He dragged a hand over his face, fighting a helpless smile. “Void help me…”
“Kailorien, put me down. You took me out too early. I still want to relax.” She wriggled free of his arms.
“Auryn, wait—”
Too late.
She rose from his lap in a sweep of movement that sent the damp towel slipping to the floor.
Resh wentstill.
Steam swirled around her, catching on the curve of her shoulder, the dip of her waist. She stood in the midst of it—shameless. Newly sculpted from heat and breath and soft silver light. She stretched, arms rising overhead, hair clinging in silver strands to the soft plane of her back.
He tried not to look.
Failed utterly.
His gaze dragged, helpless, scorching, down the gentle flare of her hips. The swell of her breasts—small, perfect, kissed by droplets tracing down her ribs. His hands held them once. He remembered how well they fit his palms.
She turned.
Bent.
He saw the sweep of her thighs, the delicate line where her spine curved into shadow—
“Kailorien.”
His name. Amused. Scolding.
He blinked hard, snapped from reverie as she turned and clutched the towel to her front. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes half lidded.
“If you look at me that way,” she murmured, not quite meeting his gaze, “I’ll start to shake again.”
His throat closed. He dragged his eyes to the ceiling.
“You’re standing unclothed in front of me.”
