I turn my back to Jasce and position myself against the pool’s edge. The cool tiles press into my skin as I tilt my head back, offering my hair to his ministrations.
He combs through the strands, untangling the knots with a patient hand. The sensation is soothing, and I find my eyes drifting closed.
The sound of a bottle being uncorked reaches my ears, followed by the subtle scent of jasmine wafting through the air. Jasce’s hands return to my hair, now slick with the fragrant oil. He works the substance into my scalp, massaging with firm yet gentle pressure.
A soft sigh escapes my lips as his fingers knead the tension from my temples and the nape of my neck. The combination of the warm water and his skilled touch unravels the knots of stress that have taken up residence in my body.
When he’s finished working the oil through my hair, Jasce reaches for a terracotta bowl sitting on the edge of the pool. He dips it into the warm water and tilts my head back, using his free hand to shield my eyes from the cascading rivulets. The water runs over my hair, rinsing away the suds and leaving behind a trail of jasmine-scented freshness.
“All finished,” he says. “Here, this is for you to bathe with.”
I turn to face him, and he hands me a small bottle of rose oil.
As I pour some of the scented oil into my hand, Jasce stands and moves to a nearby shelf to retrieve a drying cloth. I take the opportunity while his back is turned to lather myself in the fragrant oil, massaging it over my skin. Then, I slip further into the water and rinse myself.
When I’m finished bathing, I climb out of the pool, and Jasce wraps the drying cloth around me. I sigh, allowing him to pull me close for a moment before he releases me and moves toward the door.
“Don’t worry about anyone seeing you,” he says as he opens the door. “The corridors are empty this time of night.”
Heat flares to my cheeks as I step into the hall after him. I have never stepped out of a bathhouse with only a drying cloth around me before.
Jasce leads me through the empty corridors and back to his bedchamber. As we step inside, he moves to the bed and picks up my satchel, riffles through it, and pulls out one of my nightdresses.
“Thank you,” I say as I take it from him.
He nods as I slip the drying cloth off and pull my nightdress over my head.
Silence stretches between us as I reach for the cloth and work it through my hair, drying the strands.
Jasce steps to the door and pauses with his hand on the handle. “I’ll be back.”
“Jasce…” I sit on the edge of the bed as he shifts back to face me. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” Warmth sparks in his eyes as he smiles at me, then moves to the corridor and shuts the door behind him.
* * *
Time ticksby with agonizing slowness as I lie in the bed, my mind consumed with thoughts of Asha, Emerin, and Tahira.
Have they discovered my absence yet?
I yank the bedcovers up to my chin, wishing with every fiber of my being that I could change everything. Using my magic on those men. Seeing that fear in Emerin’s eyes. Hurting Asha with my actions.
“Olah, please don’t let them hate me,” I whisper into the darkness.
The door creaks open, and Jasce strides into the room. My eyes widen as I take in the sight of him standing there, a simple drying cloth wrapped precariously around his lean waist, barely concealing his modesty.
It’s not the first time I’ve seen him in such a state of undress, but I find myself staring at him as if it was—my gaze hungrily roving over every chiseled inch of his muscular body.
“Did you forget something?” I tease as he steps toward the bed.
His eyes dance with mischief. “Like what?”
“Your clothes.”
“No. I usually don’t sleep with any on.” He pulls off the drying cloth in one swift motion, and my mouth falls open. His smirk deepens at my reaction. “Don’t look so shocked, Annora. It’s not like you haven’t seen me before.”
I inch closer to the edge of the bed as he approaches, the mattress dipping under his weight as he sits on the opposite side. My heart races, and I struggle to keep my gaze from wandering over his sculpted form—especially the flame birthmark on the right side of his chest. The dark lines swirl and dance across his bronzed skin.
