He’d barely touched her. Had only undressed them both and let her feel the crackling skin-to-skin connection between them. But his humble words undid her. Cracked open what was left of her resistance and left her as bare and vulnerable inside as out.

She squeezed her eyes shut and gripped his shoulders, need, want and all the emotions of the day crashing through her in an all-consuming wave. “Please.” She didn’t know what it meant. Only knew that she trusted him to find the way. To help her across the shaky bridge of emotions to the haven of just the two of them in this moment.

“I’ve got you, malyshka.” He lifted her. Cradled her against his chest and skimmed his lips against her forehead as he moved. “No more thinking. No more reality.” The warmth and heaviness of the steam embraced her as he carefully lowered her feet to the tile floor. “Only pleasure.”

He eased her backward with hands at her hips, and water from the rainshower faucet overhead gently spilled from her crown to her shoulders and back. She closed her eyes, tipped her head back and savored the heat. The internal sigh as her muscles responded and released the day’s tension. Releasing her hold on his shoulders, she sluiced the water through her hair.

The sharp snip of plastic on plastic and the coconut scent of her shampoo floating through the steam drew her head up and her eyes open.

Kir poured a good amount of the pearlescent shampoo on one palm, set the bottle back on the inset tile shelf and rubbed his hands together.

“What are you doing?”

He grinned, smoothed his coated palms atop her drenched hair and carefully worked his strong fingers against her scalp. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

It was such a simple thing. A task she handled every day on her own in the most perfunctory manner.

But this was something else entirely. A level of intimacy beyond anything they’d done before. An act that spoke of love and care more than sexual contact.

He was showing her. Demonstrating with his actions that his words were anything but empty. This unbending, powerful man accustomed to leading many who expected absolutely loyalty was serving her. Relinquishing his power to give and provide exactly as he’d promised in the simplest of gestures.

Odd, how hard it was to let go. To let him work the thick lather in a slow, but purposeful massage. To guide her back into the water, rinse each strand clean and repeat it all once more with her conditioner. With every movement—every moment—her certainty solidified. Her trust deepened.

His heart really was hers, and he would undoubtedly move mountains if it meant seeing to her happiness.

She skimmed her fingertips over his taut pecs, eager to give him the same experience. “My turn?”

He shook his head and reached for the shower gel. “Nyet. Tonight is for you.”

The almondy goodness of the gel filled the shower, but its scent was nothing compared to the feel of his hands along her shoulders and neck. The sensuous massage he worked into each stroke, and the erotic glide of the gel and water against her skin.