Ambrose kissed Barbara one more time before getting out of bed.
Barbara admired him as he walked towards the bathroom. His nakedness did not diminish that confident air about him or strip away the easy gracefulness of his stride. If anything, it made both more obvious.
He entered the bathroom, but did not close the door.
It’s a strange and amazing thing. I can look at him when he’s completely naked and not feel embarrassed. Likewise, I can be naked around him and not feel ashamed.
She laid back down on the bed. Her hair fanned around her head. She looked up into the incomplete darkness..
Ambrose turned the shower on.
Barbara blushed as she remembered what happened in that shower just a few hours ago. The heat of his touch. The intensity of pleasure.
And love. So much love.
I should go in there now. But I don’t want to accidently provoke him into biting me. He hasn’t gone hunting yet and I know how hungry he gets. I imagine he’s barely keeping himself in check as is.
She laid her half-curled hands in her hair.
And it will always be this way.
But I meant what I told him. I love him without any regrets.
I will always love him that way.
Ambrose closed his eyes and leaned his head back. The shower water rained on his face — a hard patter on his forehead, draining through his eyebrows, getting caught in the corners of his eyes, drenching his eyelashes, running off the tip of his nose to his lips.
He huffed the water off his mouth.
Will she come in here? I want her to, but I know she shouldn’t. Not when I’m like this.
He opened his eyes and watched the rain fall.
He smiled at the memory of Barbara standing behind him. Her hair plastered against her head. Her robe just a big saturated mess.
Pushing him against the faucet and telling him exactly what she wanted.
He splurted shampoo on his hand and scrubbed it into his hair. “My iron-willed Barbara.”
Barbara Addleston is now Barbara Smith. No longer single. Now married. Now my wife and I am her husband.
He rinsed out the shampoo.
I am hers.
Hers until death parts us.
God, please let him be safe tonight. Please don’t let Ambrose be captured and hauled away by Mark Caten. Don’t let him be staked. Not tonight.
Barbara listened to the shower run, waiting for it to shut off.
Let him come home to me. Let him always come home to me every night for the rest of our lives.
Ambrose shut off the shower.
She eagerly sat up.
He left the bathroom with a towel over his head.
She got out of bed and hurried over to him. “I brought in your suitcase while you were sleeping.”
He smiled. “Well, that’s a relief. It hadn’t occurred to me until just now that I didn’t have any clothes to change into. Other than my tuxedo, that is. I didn’t exactly treasure the idea of hunting in that.” He laughed. “It would give Raven conniptions.”
Barbara giggled. “Without a doubt.” She left him to go turn on the overhead light.
He winced as the room went from semi-dark to full light.
Barbara returned to him. “Sorry, kitten. I didn’t think you’d want to dress in the dark.”
“Not a problem.” He scrubbed his wet hair with the towel.
“Can I pick out your clothes for you?” she asked.
He smiled teasingly. “Are you going to make me go hunt dressed in nothing but my tank top and shorts?”
Barbara made a thinking about it face. “I could, but I have a better idea.”
“Okay. Have at it.”