Laya reached for the buttons at the collar of her dress. Luntok’s gaze followed her as she crossed the water closet. He wanted her as much as Laya once wanted him. That desire had been her undoing. But beneath the curdling heat of Luntok’s gaze, Laya straightened.

Desire was a weakness⁠—something she could use.

She paused, glancing at him from beneath her eyelashes. “Are you going to stand there and ogle me?”

“No, but I won’t leave you unattended,” he said as a bead of sweat dripped down the side of his temple.

Laya wondered whether the water in the tub was hot enough to scald her skin. She felt trapped inside a bathhouse sauna.

“Instead of standing there, perhaps you would like to join me.”

Laya didn’t have the strength to destroy him. That wouldn’t always be the case. But Luntok would be weak as long as he wanted her.

She revealed nothing as she stared back at him. Her body language shifted as she finished unbuttoning her dress. He watched, transfixed, as it slipped from her shoulders. Laya let it pool on the tiles and stared at him, garbed in a gauzy white camisole and petticoat. She tilted her head. Parted her lips. How many times had Laya given him that look, knowing it would make his blood sear?

He swallowed hard. “Laya, I . . .”

I don’t trust you.

Laya could read his thoughts, because they mirrored her own.

Her gaze softened. She held out her hand. “Please,” she said gently. “Let’s pretend things are as they were before.”

Luntok was too vulnerable to refuse her, and she knew this. He shrugged off his clothes, watching her out of the corner of his eye while she stepped out of her underthings. Laya did the same. She thought back to how they’d danced together at the parade⁠—wildly, recklessly⁠—how she’d yanked him close, pulling his skin flush against hers. This was not the same kind of dance. In the water closet, they circled each other in a cautious orbit. The hard lines of his body wavered in the hot steam. Although they had stood naked in front of one another a hundred times before, the version of Luntok that appeared before her was unrecognizable.

She sank into the bath first. Luntok settled in the opposite end of the tub. The heat coaxed the tension from her muscles, held taut for so long. She stretched out her legs under the water, her feet bumping against his knees. Then she dipped beneath the surface long enough to wet her hair. Luntok watched her run her fingers through her dark, matted strands. She thought he might reach for her again. He grabbed the bar of soap lying on the edge of the tub instead.

“Come here,” he said in a low voice, gesturing her closer with a wave of his hand.