chest. “I could catch up on my knitting,” she breathed, her gaze not leaving his.
“That sounds boring. Wanna play…a game?”
Oh yeah. This was more like it.
For weeks, she’d been waiting for this, yearning for his touch. They’d been good; nothing more than kisses and a bit more, just enough to let her know what was coming would be exceptionally good between them.
Her pulse increased and warmth flooded between her thighs at the promise in his gaze.
“What kind of game?” she all but purred, lifting her arms around his neck.
He leaned down, his lips only inches from hers…then raised a brow. “Candy Land?”
Well, that hadn’t been what she’d expected. She jerked back, her mouth dropping open.
His grin was sexy, though ornery too. “Strip Candy Land?”
She began to giggle.
He took her by the hand and led her—slowly, careful of her healing foot—into the bathroom.
Once there, he released her, then reached down to turn off the water, and Bobbi beheld the most beautiful bubble bath she’d ever seen.
The bubbles were pink and smelled heavenly of strawberries. A bottle of oil sat beside the faucet, and there were even scarlet rose petals floating on the iridescent orbs of air.
Overkill, certainly, but oh-so-perfect. She’d only mentioned her love of baths a few times, mainly bemoaning how much she missed them since her stupid cast had been on. But the fact he’d set this all up proved how much he cared.
And was that a box of chocolates?
Their scent mixed with the strawberry fragrance from the bubbles, and now that the water was off, she could hear the soft music playing.
Smiling up at him, she squeezed his hand. “This is lovely, thank you. It’s fit for a queen.”
“You’re my queen, sweetheart,” he quipped, brushing a kiss against her temple. Then he reached for the crown of purple flowers Artie had pinned to her head hours ago, and lifted it and the veil from her head. “I’ll put this in the tissue paper like Griselda told us to. Want help with your gown?”
She was eyeing the bubble bath with longing, but the gown was difficult to get in and out of, so she turned, offering him her back. “Please.”
He made short work of the zipper and hooks, then held her arm while she stepped out of it. Soon, she was standing on the tile wearing only her undies and that ridiculous bustier, plus her stockings.
Part of her wanted to cover herself, knowing she was no supermodel, especially after childbirth. But the rest of her watched the way he looked at her, the appreciative, hungry look in his eyes, and she had to preen.
His expression said she really was his queen.
It was a moment before his eyes met hers again, and she knew his hunger was reflected in her gaze. Still, he did nothing more than wink and hold up the gown.
“I’ll hang this up in the hall closet. Just enjoy your bath.”
And then he was gone.
Wait, what?
He expected her to sit here—alone!—and enjoy her bath—alone!—after the promising look he’d just given her?
Well, you can’t waste a perfect bubble bath, honey!
Okay, sometimes she could agree with her subconscious on some things.
Stripping out of her underthings, she sank into the tub with a soft sigh. The temperature was perfect, and the bubbles caressed her, the scent transporting her to…to…well, someplace very relaxing.
And strawberry-y.
Next stop, Relaxation-ville. Population: me.
But…but that wasn’t completely true, was it? She couldn’t quite concentrate on relaxing, not when she knew what was waiting for her.
She tried a chocolate. Very nice. The second one tasted even better, but didn’t sit well in her stomach.
Not when she couldn’t stop thinking of the yearning in those perfect green eyes.
The water was still quite warm when she gave up and pulled herself out of the tub, wrapping her body in her fluffy, purple robe. Luckily, her hair was short enough it had never gotten wet, because she wasn’t certain she could wait a moment longer.
Heart in her throat, she yanked open the door to the bedroom.
And stopped short.
Decker Cauldron—her husband—was lying in bed, the blankets pulled back, and the pillows fluffed up. It was dark outside, so he’d turned on one of the bedside lamps and was lying there with his hand behind his head, one leg crossed in front of the other, his phone up, as if he’d been reading something on it.
Oh, and he was completely, gloriously, wonderfully naked!
“What are you doing?” Her voice sounded strangled, even to her own ears.
As if nothing were odd about this, one of