Page 291 of A Vicious Love

“I’ll endure.”

“Very brave.”

She moved through the water toward my side of the tub. Bubbles gathered against her breasts, slipped, gathered again. Her knee brushed the inside wall. The waterline lowered over one shoulder.

I flicked ash into the tray and touched her cheek with the backs of my knuckles.

Mine.

She leaned into the touch without thinking, then caught herself as if the instinct embarrassed her.

I loved it.

The word came too easily now, even in my head.

I slid my fingers along her jaw, thumb brushing a wet strand of hair away from her cheek. “Better.”

Her eyes dropped briefly to my lap.

Her blush deepened.

Sweet little sinner sitting in a bath and pretending she had no idea what she was doing to me.

I took another drag from the cigarette and let the smoke leave slowly. “Careful, baby.”

Her gaze lifted. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You looked.”

A smile threatened her mouth. Bratty. Brave. My favorite combination, apparently.

Then her expression shifted, curiosity moving in where teasing had been. She rested both arms on the side of the tub, chin near her wrists, looking up at me from the water.

“What do you do when you’re not working?”

I frowned. “What?”

“When you’re not being a syndicate king or ruling Harlan with your brothers.” Her tone stayed gentle, but she was watching me too closely for it to be casual. “What does Jamison Crow do?”

“I work.”

She made a face.

An actual pout.

I stared at it.

She should have known better than to aim that mouth at me while naked in a bathtub. Actually, she likely did know. That was the problem.

“Don’t pout at me.”

“I asked a real question.”

“I gave a real answer.”

“You gave a Crow answer. Those are usually terrible.”

I leaned down and touched her knee beneath the water. Just my fingertips at first, tracing the slick curve where it bent close to the surface. Her breath changed.