Nero pulls the curtain closed behind him, and my body automatically turns to face him.
Even though my brain is shouting at me that I don’t actually know this man, my heart is telling me to cling to him with both hands.
His eyes flick across my body, cataloging all my parts, but not lingering. He meets my gaze again.
There’s not much room in here, so even standing on opposite ends of the tub, there’s barely a foot of space between us.
Silently, Nero reaches up and starts to pull my hair loose from its bun. His fingers are gentle, and he manages to get it out without tearing any strands of hair out.
“What are you doing?” I finally ask when he slips the black elastic around his wrist.
With his fingertips at my temples, he tips my head back, wetting my hair in the stream of water. “I’m
