and the scent of lavender filled the large space.
The liquid seemed to caress my body as I smoothed it on, almost as if it might help wash away the danger that lay ahead. The water beat down on me from all directions and I enfolded myself in it. In this sanctuary, I could let myself be afraid. I could cry because I was scared. I didn’t have to be strong.
The emotions I was holding in gave away, as did my wall of strength. Like a rag doll, I limply slid down the wall of the shower. After a few moments, I cradled my head in my hands and let the tears flow. I cried for as long as I could and when I knew I had no tears left, I resolved to cry no more. It was time to be strong, if not for me, then for that innocent little girl sleeping soundly in the next room.
Fortitude was a virtue I knew well and, as I forced myself to rise to my feet, I reminded myself of that. Finding the shampoo, I scrubbed and rinsed my head. When I looked at my fingers, they were wrinkled, and I wondered just how long I’d been in the shower. Running my hands through my silky smooth strands, I scrubbed some more and then rinsed again, finally adding the conditioner and rinsing one last time.
My mind felt freer by the time I turned the shower off. Logan assured me we’d be safe, and for a reason I didn’t want to examine too closely, I believed him. Logan—what was it about him? What were these feelings that were whooshing through my belly just thinking about him? Was I genuinely attracted to him, or was my reaction simply a by-product of the fear I was feeling? The answer could easily have been yes to both questions.
Steam filled the air in the room. Something came over me in the haze—lustful visions that I couldn’t control. When I stepped out of the shower, I tried to block the image I had in my head of Logan’s parted lips—soft, sensual. As soon as the cooler air hit me, my nipples peaked. I ignored the desire that was blooming within me and reached for the fluffy white towels that were just beside the counter.
First, I wrapped my head in one and then my body. The terry cloth absorbed the water instantly but I still rubbed one corner over my skin to dry it thoroughly. The arousal I had been feeling blossomed beneath the surface of each place I rubbed and I made sure to leave no place untouched.
The air was still hazy and the mirror was coated in steam. That was fine; I didn’t need to see myself. I knew the state of affairs. My skin was pink from the heat, my body was clean, and my mind was on the man who would be sleeping in the next room tonight.
Squeezing my eyes closed, I bent forward and gripped the counter. I had to think clearly. I couldn’t allow anything or anyone to cloud my judgment.
“Are you okay?” His voice was low, rumbly, and my insides came even more alive at the sound.
Surprised, I stood straight and turned around. My heart leapt into my throat when I saw him occupying the doorway. In the midst of all this chaos, he was a welcome breath of fresh air.
“Yes, I’m fine. Sorry if I’m taking too long. I’ll hurry.”
He leaned against the doorframe and his long, lean body was all I could see. “No, that’s not why I’m here. I knocked lightly but you didn’t hear me.”
I drank him in from head to toe, not sure how to stop what was coming over me. “It’s okay. What did you need?”
“I didn’t want to disturb you, but I saw you were out of the shower and thought you might freak out if you didn’t see Clementine in the bed.”
I stepped forward, freaking out more than a bit.
Logan spoke, though, before I could express my concern. “Nothing to worry about. I wanted to let you know,” he jerked his head toward the bedroom, “I had housekeeping set up a crib and I moved Clementine into it. I hope you don’t mind.”
My vision became blurry from all the steam, or maybe it was the gratitude I felt from his constant vigilance over Clementine and me. “Thank you.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked again.
As my body reacted to his presence, warmth overtook me, and