A thin stream of water fell over the edge of the stone, and I hurried forward to stick my arm in it. The temperature was perfect. Bathwater warm.
“It’s close,” I said, shaking off my arm while looking up. “Instead of a thin stream falling over the edge, the stone needs raindrop sized holes all over it so the water comes down like a rain shower.”
A second later, a cascade of hot rain drenched me.
Laughing, I closed my eyes and let the water wash the hair back from my face. Warmth and steam wrapped around me. It felt so normal and real. With a smile on my face, I took a step out of the downpour and wiped the water from my eyes.
When I looked at Hades to tell him it was perfect, I found him backing toward the bed. Confused, I watched him for a moment then realized what I’d done. Smiled.
Pity wiped my expression clean as he slowly lowered himself to the lounge at the end of the bed.
“It pleases you?” he asked, his voice hoarse.
“It does. Before I came here, I used to shower every morning.”
He frowned, and I thought I’d frustrated him with the reminder I wasn’t Persephone. But he didn’t get mad and tell me he hated my games. He only asked, “Every morning?”
“Yes. I guess it was pretty wasteful to wash that often when I wasn’t doing much to get dirty, but I love how taking a shower feels. It’s soothing.” As I spoke, I stuck my arm out so I could feel the hot water splashing down on it. “I didn’t know how much I missed it.”
“Did you always bathe with your dress on?”
“I never really wore a dress before coming here.”
My dress vanished. So did my relaxed carefree mood. I slapped an arm over my chest, almost stabbing my boob with my tooth twig, and turned away from Hades.
“Give it back. Now.”
“No.”
I glanced over my shoulder at him and saw he’d leaned back against the bed, his elbows behind him on the mattress. The picture he painted was positively sinful. It was hard to breathe normally as I took in his bare, chiseled chest and heavy-lidded gaze.
“I showered alone when I was naked,” I managed.
“You are showering alone.”
“I meant without anyone watching me.”
He lifted a shoulder in a lazy shrug.
I faced the water for a minute and tried to calm my racing heart. After all, this wasn’t the first time Hades had stolen my dress. He’d seen me naked before. This time was different, though. He was being a lot calmer and hadn’t even tried to knock himself unconscious. Why? Not that I wanted him to hurt himself, but why was this time different? I didn’t like it. He’d accused me of plotting at one point. That’s what this felt like he was doing.
Glancing over my shoulder again, I found his laid-back demeanor gone. He leaned forward now, hands on his thighs, as he watched me with a predatorial gleam in his eyes. The tension in his shoulders and the white knuckled grip on his legs warned me that he was close to losing control. But in what way?
“I provided you with a toothbrush and a shower,” he said. “Are you ready to wash my back?”
“I will be once you give me my dress back.”
“It will only get wet again.”
“I don’t care. It’s my dress.”
“No, Goddess. It was a dress that I provided you.”
“Then provide me another one. Why are you being so—” Was I really going to ask the King of Hell why he was being so mean? No. I was not. “Zotera said that Persephone used to do things just to make you miserable. Is this what you did to get back at her? Take her clothes? Make her feel exposed and vulnerable?”
He paled again and looked away from me at the same time my dress encased me, dry and clean. I stepped away from the water so it wouldn’t get wet again, but there was no need. The shower had immediately stopped.
I didn’t pretend to understand why he’d changed his mind. I was only grateful that he had.
