"Please what?" He cocked his head, and raised one eyebrow.
"Please, Connor," I said. "Can you please help me into the bath?"
"Good girl," he soothed. His eyes on mine, he took my arms and placed them around his neck before scooping me up and lowering me into the water.
I let out a long sigh as the warm water engulfed me, soothing my aches and warming me from the outside in.
"I shouldn't have put in so many bubbles," he said.
"It looks perfect to me." They covered me so completely, I sat up and unhooked my bra. Sliding it off my arms, I tossed it out onto the black and white tiles on the bathroom floor. Looking right at him, I pushed my panties down and leaned to grab them before tossing them aside too.
"I like making you wet," he said. He closed the lid of the toilet and sat on it to watch me.
"Only wet with bathwater," I said. We both knew that wasn't true. Between his care and praise, my body craved more.
"Why are you doing this?" I asked. "Apart from it being ‘the Aurora Hollow way’." I used air quotes. "You could have asked Whitney, Fiona or Holly to help me. Or you could have walked away and forgot all about me."
"Would you have preferred that?" he asked, already knowing the answer.
"You don't even like me," I pointed out. "You've made it clear you can't stand me and are counting down the days until I leave town." I frowned. "This isn't where you hold me under the water until I stop breathing, is it?"
On a good day I wouldn't be able to fight him off. On a bad day, I stood no chance.
"I'm an asshole, not a murderer," he said with a short laugh. "My sister likes you, so I suppose you're okay. Besides, this way I guess you owe me one."
"Owe you one what?" After him paying for drinks the other night, I was starting to build up some kind of debt to him. At least, that was how it felt.
He shrugged one shoulder. "A favour? A good deed? I don't know. Something'll come up."
"I'm sure it will," I said with a glance to his groin.
"I like that's where your mind went," he said with a shit-eating grin. "I guess I should call you good girl a few more times."
"And what should I call you?" I said without thinking.
The sides of his mouth drew up in a slow smile. "How about sir?"
I let my head drop back and laughed. "Keep dreaming." His ego was big enough.
"Sounds like a challenge to me," he said in a low voice. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. "You see, I figured out a little something."
My pulse ratcheted up until it was racing almost painfully through my body.
"What's that?" I asked.
"I figured out that you're mine, Leah Kent. You asked me why I'm here. That's your answer. You wanted to know why I'd take care of you like this, that's why. I know you're going to fight it, because that's the kind of woman you are. And I know one other thing."
I gave him a questioning look, but no words managed to work their way out of my mouth.
"I know you're going to need help getting out of that bath." He looked very pleased with himself.
Shit, he was right and I was naked under the bubbles. No wonder he looked so smug.
"I'll find a way," I said. "I feel better now after the massage and hot water." Not enough to make the flare-up die down completely, but some.
"I'm staying until I know you got out without falling and knocking yourself out on the side of the bath," he said, unmoved. "Whitney would kill me if I eventhoughtabout leaving you alone."
"We wouldn't want your sister to kill you," I said with an edge of sarcasm.
