Sophia's POV
My voice was barely a voice. A plea. I tightened my folded arms, which only pressed the fabric harder, and the friction made me draw a short, quiet breath through my teeth.
He moved toward me without hurrying.
"I said I'd dry you off."
"I don't need —" I tried to stand and my legs simply refused. My knees shook visibly. I grabbed the edge of the berth.
His hand came down on my shoulder. Steady. Certain. "You want to go back dripping? Or would you rather let the entire dock see you like this?"
I stopped trying to move.
He sat beside me. The mattress shifted. He raised the towel to my hair and began, and I sat rigidly still, but wherever his fingertips grazed my scalp, electricity followed — a fine, scattered current that raised the hair at the back of my neck and brought
