A set of fluffy towels and a note sat on a chaise lounge in front of the shower door. My heart skipped as I grabbed the note and unfolded it to see Beckett’s elegant handwriting sloping across the paper.
A laugh bubbledup in my chest, and I lifted my hand to my hair.
Beckett had called me beautiful. And he liked my hair.
Sure that my hair was a sight to behold at the moment, I took Beckett up on his offer to make myself at home. I wore his shirt and had slept between his sheets; I might as well use his shower.
And what a shower it was…
The glass enclosure occupied the entire back wall of the room and had more nozzles and spigots than a car wash. After a moment of hesitation I hurried to lock the door and strip out of my clothes. I laid my clothes on the bench and stepped inside the shower.
Heated tiles warmed my feet, and a soft light glowed overhead. Dispensers lined the tiled walls, but there were no knobs. No handles. No way to turn on the water. I groaned, remembering how I’d spent twenty minutes trying to figure out how to open the refrigerator in Beckett’s kitchen.
“Good morning.” A woman’s voice filled the glass enclosure.
I jumped and whirled around. My heart slammed in my chest. Hands covering my bits and pieces, I scanned the bathroom for the source of the voice.
“What temperature would you like?”
On the back wall, a keypad lit up, offering a selection of temperatures ranging from sixty-five to one hundred twenty degrees. I tapped the keypad to select an option somewhere between a polar plunge and the rivers of hell. Warm water rushed from panels in the ceiling and sprayed from nozzles on the walls.
“What pressure would you like?”
The soothing voice filling the shower was the same one that had calmly informed me I was out of tries at the gate before the sirens had blared.
I flashed an irritated glance at the keypad. “Can you shut up?”
“Have a wonderful day,” she said. “Good-bye.”
Blissful silence ensued. I lifted my face to the cascade of water and sighed as the tension in my muscles released. I pumped shampoo out of a dispenser and massaged it through my hair. Beckett’s scent filled the air, and my belly quivered at the thought of sharing this decadent shower experience with him. With his scent in the surrounding steam, it wasn’t hard to imagine him standing under the waterfall wearing nothing but a wicked grin. His skin shiny with soap. His hair slicked back from his face. His eyes naked and vulnerable without his glasses. He would reach for me…
I rinsed the shampoo from my hair, wishing I could rid my mind of Beckett so easily. My imagination wouldn’t let up. It insisted on wondering if Beckett tasted as good as he smelled, and if his abs were as hard as…
I needed an intervention.
“Hey, lady in the keypad?” My voice reverberated in the silence. “Hello?”
“How can I be of assistance?”
Can you make me stop thinking about Beckett’s sexy body, naked?“Can I get colder water, please?”
“What temperature would you like?”
The keypad lit up with selections, and I chose the Arctic blast. A torrent of icy water rained down over my head and blasted from the nozzles on the walls.
“Too cold!”
“What temperature would you like?”
I sputtered as freezing water soaked my hair and body. “Hotter!”
The temperature rose to a tolerable level, chasing away the goose bumps that covered my skin. I shivered and cursed under my breath. “Damn machines.”
“Do you need further assistance?”
“No.”
“Have a wonderful day. Good-bye.”
