Bathing by Candlelight

The estate lay in stillness, illuminated by the gentle radiance of the moon. Amara found herself unable to sleep, her thoughts swirling around James, the artifact, and the undeniable attraction she felt toward both. She meandered through the corridors, her bare feet gliding over the cool stone floors. The tranquility was soothing until she noticed a door slightly ajar. A warm light spilled into the hallway, accompanied by the soft sound of water. Her curiosity piqued, she leaned in to take a look. What she saw took her breath away. The room was enveloped in warmth and steam, illuminated by the flickering glow of numerous candles. In the center stood an exquisite copper tub, its water glistening in the dim light. And there, reclining with his head resting against the edge, was James. His dark hair was damp, with droplets tracing down his bare shoulders. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, his arms relaxed along the tub's rim. Amara felt her throat go dry. She knew she should leave—right then and there—but she was rooted to the spot, her heart racing. "Are you planning to stand there all night?" His voice, deep and smooth, startled her. James turned his head slightly, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. "Or are you simply enjoying the view?" "I—I didn't mean to—" she stuttered, her cheeks flushing. "Didn't mean to walk in, or didn't mean to get caught?" he teased, the corners of his mouth lifting. She forced herself to look away, mumbling, "Both." As she turned to escape, his voice trailed after her, laced with amusement. "Goodnight, Miss Blake."

Left alone in the bath, James leaned back, a soft laugh escaping him. She was unlike anyone he had ever encountered, and the mix of frustration and excitement was intoxicating.