Sloane walked to the shower and peeked her head in.

“You have four…no, six shower heads.”

“Yep.”

“Do you need six shower heads?”

Did I need them? No. Was I happy I had them? Fuck yes.

“Nope.”

Sloane straightened and took in the granite double vanity then her gaze skidded to the oversize bathtub.

“Wanna take a bath?”

She continued to stare at the tub without answering me. As a matter of fact, she looked far away and lost.

“Sloane?”

Her head tilted to the side and that was when I saw a tear roll down her cheek.

“Yes, I want to take a bath. And yes I want to look around your awesome room and admire your work while you tell me everything you did and how you did it. And yes I want to take a shower and turn on all six shower heads. But I’m so exhausted I’m too tired.”

“Then let's get you into bed.”

“But I’m gross.”

“Then let's get in the shower.”

“I’m too—”

Since I didn’t know where the hell the zipper to her dress was, I shut her up by reaching for the hem and yanking it up. Her arms went up, the dress cleared her head, and I tossed it on the floor.

“Kick off your shoes.”

I didn’t wait to see if she followed my orders. I moved to the shower, turned the tap to hot, and adjusted the handles until all the nozzles were spraying water. By the time I turned back around, Sloane was naked. I quickly toed out of my shoes and just as quickly shucked my clothes. Wordlessly, I led her into the huge walk-in shower.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Listen to me.” I pulled her under the rainfall spigot mounted on the ceiling. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Like you said, you’ve had a rough day and you’re exhausted. Add to that you’re someplace you’ve never been. Tomorrow will be better.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah, baby, I promise. Now tip your head back so I can wash your hair. And I apologize in advance that your hair’s gonna smell like,” I reached down to the built-in bench and picked up my bottle of Old Spice shampoo, “Swagger.”

“What’s Swagger smell like?”

I tipped the bottle so she could look at it. After blinking several times, she gave up and loudly announced over the spray, “I can’t read that with the torrential downpour and hurricane-like conditions.”

“You don’t like my hurricane?”

“I love it. Especially the two wall-mounted nozzles giving me a water massage. However, unless you have a pair of goggles handy, I’m afraid I cannot see the ingredient list. Not that I need to read them to know as long as it smells like you smell then I know it smells good.”

Fuck, she was killing me.

I squirted a healthy glob of shampoo in my hand, set the shampoo down, and rubbed my hands together.

“Step outta the spray.”

“Is that possible?”

“Step closer to me.”