Page 90 of Found in Wild Sage

Ours.

I so desperately want this room to be one we share. I don’t want him on the couch downstairs ever again.

“What’s happening now?” I’m breathless, and I can’t blame it on one flight of stairs.

He slips his hands inside my blazer at the lapels and guides it off my shoulders, then tosses it behind me on the bed. Next, he directs me to sit on the edge of the bed, then bends to kneel. His warm palm cups the back of my calf while his other hand removes my shoe, first one side, then the other.

“You’re going to relax a while.” His blue gaze flicks up to meet mine as he sets the shoes aside.

My heart gallops. “H—how do you envision that happening?”

Every part of my body is paying attention as his thumb swipes over the smooth skin of my leg, and then he slides his hand down, down, lightly pinching my Achilles tendon before releasing me and standing.

“I’m going to run you a bath.”

I could swear his gaze is searing into me, literal pressure and heat emanating from his eyes on my body. I’m about to ask if he’ll be joining me, but he pulls me to standing and grips my waist in both of his hands.

Oh, but I do love a tactile man.

He’s been so controlled. So respectful and stubborn.

I am shuddering with how delighted these small, bold movements are making me.

“You’ll relax. Decompress a bit.” He squeezes me, his touch lingering for a moment before he steps away and moves to the bathroom.

“And then?” Like, come on, man. I appreciate the very effective seduction here. I will think about this in the future and how strategically brilliant it is. Offering an exhausted, stressed woman a bath in the middle of the day? Yes.

But also, there are other ways to relax together. I would very much like option B, if it’s on the table. Or bed.

Oh, good grief, my brain is addled with desire for this man.

When I step into the bathroom, he’s got the water running, the lights on low, and he’s pouring some deliciously scented substance into the water.

He sets the tiny bottle down and reaches for his tie. With a few strategic tugs, he’s got the tie off and he tosses it over one shoulder, unbuttoning the top button of his shirt next.

I close the door behind me. Maybe if I trap him in here, he’ll stay. That’d be fine by me.

“And then…” He reaches around behind me, his face close to mine. He smells like the mint from gum we both chewed after lunch, and the fresh laundry and soap scent that usually clings to him. And him. It’s a scent designed to appeal to the very most instinctual part of me, and that insistent desire I’m hardly holding at bay multiplies.

He finds the zipper at the back of my dress. I imagine his deft fingers pinching the pull and easing it down. Some part of him drags against my body, making the act a slow-motion caress. Inch by inch, my back is exposed.

I hope he’ll keep going. That he’ll guide the shoulders of the dress off my arms just like he did with my blazer, but he doesn’t. His large hand presses firmly against the lowest part of my back, only a slip of skin-to-skin contact where the dress gapes. His lips ghost over my ear when he speaks.

“Then, love, you can have whatever you want.”

Instead of staying while I undress and slide into the bubbly, soapy water, he dips his head to press a kiss to my neck, gives me one last look that turns me absolutely liquid, and slips out of the bathroom.

I briefly debate going after him but decide maybe a moment to fully relax is best. The amount of nervous, almost sick energy shuddering through me before the hearing was enough to power Juniper View through winter, so it’s not a bad idea to take a beat.

The warm water does feel incredible. It’s not quite chilly outside, but my tightly wound muscles appreciate the soothing sensation. I’ve never been big on baths, but this room is perfect for it. There’s a large window high enough for privacy and perfect for a view of trees and mountains outside.

After a few minutes, Dec returns with a light knock on the door. My heart trips at the sight of his unbuttoned shirt and how he’s removed his shoes. He’s still in the slacks that match his charcoal suit jacket, and his undershirt covers his chest. But he’s a step closer to where I want him, so I’ll take it.

He delivers a glass of water to the tub side, and deliciously, makes no effort to seem like he’s not looking. Granted, the water is opaque with bubbles, but he’s not immune to the idea of me in here.

I take a sip of the water, smiling at his thoughtfulness. But if he thinks I plan to linger here indefinitely, he’s deluded. “Is my time in here done?”

His gaze locked on mine, he steps right up to the edge of the tub. “Whatever you want.”