As we undergo the infuriating trip to the bathroom, one that feels like I’ve already taken it a thousand times, he asks, “Why don’t you use the control for the chair? You know it's automatic, right?”
I stare at the joystick warily. “Too easy, and as much as I hate to admit it… I am getting a bit tired of all the gadgets.”
He laughs and gives me goosebumps. It’s such a sexy sound.Or maybe I just think he’s sexy? Maybe I’m overthinking this.A blush paints my skin purple.
When we enter the bathroom, my anxiety blossoms in the air and fills the room. I’m pretty sure it could stop a bullet.
He walks over to the faucet and places a hand on the tap lined with a blue ring. “This one?”
I shake my head. “I’d prefer it to be more warm.”
He nods and twists the red handle. The sound of water rushing through the pipes gives me a small reprieve. Erik is as cool as the sea. He is the picture of relaxation as he stands fiddling with the tub, adding sweet-smelling salts to the bath. I cannot peel my eyes from him, my heart pounding.
Erik turns to me, smiling softly. “Would you like help getting in?”
“Yes, please.”
He ducks and wraps his hand around my waist. The other arm slides under my fins and hoists me easily against his chest. My lungs are screaming for air, and my heart races when our faces come close.
“Can I kiss you again?” he breathes. His breath smells like coffee.
“Yes,” I say a little too quickly.
This kiss is gentle, filled with the sound of running water. He kisses me as he walks us backwards. It is as though I weigh nothing…clearly a man of experience.
I struggle to keep images of the mysterious, faceless…otherwomen from my brain as he lowers me into the warm water, my back facing him. The water laps against my tingling skin, and I bite my lips to keep down the little noise that threatens to escape me.
“I’ve waited for several weeks to be in a place where we could be alone like this,” he admits in a gruff voice. “Where we could be together without anyone listening.”
I wring my hands together. What if he isn’t actually interested in me… he’s just a womanizer? When his hands brush the thick strap of my turtleneck tank top, I freeze. Distrust has extinguished the fire.
“Helena,” he says gently. “What’s wrong?”
I suck in a breath. “I—This is hard for me.”
“Why?” he asks. His voice is so gentle.
“You know why.”
He tilts his head. “Because you haven’t ever been with a man before?”
“—Any male,” I shoot back, the purple in my cheeks and ears intensifying. At least my position allows me to avoid looking directly into his eyes. “Two days ago, I was angry enough to murder you. And now you want to make love to me?”
“Princess, that is the sweetness of affection,” he reaches out and brushes a lock of my hair behind my ear. “Love is tempered by passion.”
“Do you have a passion for killing things?” I ask, and his eyes cloud over. What I really want to dwell on is the way his lips form the word love, but that is foolish.
“Death is necessary for survival. Sometimes it is kinder to kill some people,” he says carefully.
“Kinder to who?”
“To their victims. Victims of any kind of abuse; emotional, physical, mental…” His words trail off, and I remember his mother. Madeline. He’s got some sort of vigilante justice in him.
Is he a murderer… with morals?
“Sometimes I wish I’d never met you,” I admit. The words slip out of me unbidden. As soon as they are out, I’m surprised by how light they make me feel. Honesty tastes delicious on my tongue. My time with Erik will never be anything but colored in guilt if I don’t tell him exactly how I felt.
He doesn’t speak for several minutes. And then he stands and gestures to the water, “Can I join you?”