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It’s only now I realize I’m wearing nothing but a hideous hospital gown. I still take him up on the offer. “Sure.”

To my surprise, Enzo doesn’t just untie the damn thing and rip it off me. He nudges my legs apart, kneeling between them. Then, with movements that are slow and measured, he unties it in the back. He moves as though he’s afraid I’ll break. Or maybe he’s afraid I’m already broken.

Now there’s a depressive thought.

Once I’m naked, I swing my feet into the tub and slowly lower myself into the scalding water. A gasp escapes me, and our eyes lock.

“Too hot?” he asks.

“No, it’s perfect,” I rasp. I’m about to tell him that I’m fine but the words dissipate on my tongue when he starts unbuttoning his shirt.

I don’t know why, but I expected him to leave me to bathe on my own. He doesn’t. He rids himself of all his clothes, unblinking as his penetrating blue eyes stay on mine. Then he slips into the water behind me. I feel the hard line of his body, the way he fits perfectly behind me.

He starts to wash me, taking his time. “Why?” The word spills out before I can stop it, unsteady and unsure.

“Because I want to.” His mouth is close to my ear, his breath hot against my neck.

A moan slips out from between my lips as he lathers shampoo into my hair. “That feels so good,” I admit.

I want to turn so I can study him, but his hands are insistent, pulling me back, and holding me in place.

“You don’t have to do this.” The words feel hollow. “I can wash myself.”

He dips my head back, the water rushing over my scalp, drowning out everything but the sound of my own heart. “I want to.”

His touch is gentle, but I can feel the intensity behind it. Sighing, I let myself sink back against his chest.

“You’re tired,” he says, the words a low rumble, the weight of his erection a constant against my spine.

“I’m not.” It’s a lie we both recognize. But he doesn’t call me on it. He just holds me there, skin on skin, until the water goes cold and the rest of the world falls away.

I don’t tell him that the reason I want to stay in the tub for as long as possible is that I’m scared what will happen once this bubble breaks. I’m not brave enough to demand answers. But I’m not blind either.

Something happened. Something I don’t want to remember—because the second I do, everything changes. And with that thought comesa lot of others. Like, where were we? A medical place, sure. But it wasn’t a hospital. At least not a public one.

Every thought brings more questions with it, questions I’m not sure I’m ready to have answered.

“Why are you taking care of me?” I ask, feeling like that’s a question I can handle the answer to.

Enzo tightens his hold on me. “Because you’re mine, Piper. Mine in ways you haven’t even begun to understand,” he rasps.

“For this year, sure. But that doesn’t answer my question,” I huff.

He bends down, biting the lobe of my ear until I yelp from the sting. “You’re not hearing me, Piper. You’re mine, and you have been since I first saw you.”

“At the interview,” I feel the need to clarify.

“It was before that. I saw you on your birthday when you were at the Carroway Café,” he corrects.

Stiffening, I demand. “Say that again.” Surely I didn’t hear him right.

“That’s when I saw you. You were sitting by yourself, and—”

“Stop!” I shout. Before I can process what I’m doing, I push myself out of the tub and reach for the plush towel on the heat rack. “Why would you say that?”

Chapter 31

Piper