Page 105 of Broken Beyond Repair
“I’m more than up for a cuddle if you are,” she offered.
“I’m going to fall into the shower first,” Beatrice answered through a yawn.
Feeling a little hot at the thought, Sydney refrained from putting her coat on as she stepped out into the freezing Highwood air.
“Can I tempt you with a back scrub? Like old times?”
“You can do one better and join me.”
“I won’t turn down an offer like that,” Sydney smirked, thinking all her Christmases had come at once.
Sydney took the key and let the chauffeur into the house so he could begin unloading all the cases. Beatrice followed slowly behind, her feet dragging on the gravel. She really did look exhausted, yet still incredibly hot. Knowing she could be the one to tuck her up in bed shortly was sending celebratory streamers to every extremity of Sydney’s mind.
The entrance hall was exquisitely decorated for Christmas. A tree stood beside the staircase, drowning under the weight of haphazardly placed decorations which altogether created a remarkably stylish arrangement. Sometimes even imperfection created perfection at the right distance. The tip extended beyond the first landing, where it strained to hold a gold star. The illusive Mrs Clarkson must have been in. Sydney was looking forward to finally meeting her.
Analysing the cases in the entrance hall, Beatrice picked one up and then said, “Would you mind bringing the rest?” She closed her eyes the second she’d finished her sentence. “I’m sorry, Sydney. I’m already giving you orders. This is going to take some getting used to.”
“It’s fine, go up. I’ll sort these. I’m not the one that’s flown halfway around the world over the last few days or experienced an emotional breakthrough.”
Beatrice squinted at her and then made her way up the stairs. “Don’t forget to join me, will you?”
“I won’t.” There was no fear of that happening. It wasn’t every day you received an invitation to join Beatrice Russell in the shower… naked, alone, with soap.
Sydney blew out a breath. At this rate, she was going to come before she made it as far as the shower.
The shower was running by the time she brought up the last of the cases and her own small rucksack. She’d packed enough clean underwear for a few days but would need to return to Scotland to collect the rest of her belongings — and Gertie. Planning hadn’t been at the forefront of her mind when she left.
If there was an award for quickest removal of clothes, she would have won it. Standing naked in Beatrice’s bedroom was strange yet arousing, not that Sydney needed any more encouragement in that department. It was clear that all Beatrice wanted to do this evening was cuddle.
Condensation covered the glass of the enormous shower; a Beatrice-shaped shadow moved behind it. The underfloor heating warmed Sydney’s feet, but it didn’t take the anxious chill off her body. She’d never been so nervous entering a bathroom. Every hair was standing on end.
It’s now or never.
Shuffling her feet she made it to the screen and forced herself around it. Beatrice’s bare butt enticed her further; she wanted to reach out and touch it, but she refrained. The invitation was for washing Beatrice’s back only.
Finally finding her voice, she called out, “Hey,”
“Hey yourself.” Beatrice reached back with a soapy sponge. “Would you?”
It took her a moment to respond. Her head was rushing with blood, her senses overwhelmed.
“Sydney,” Beatrice chided pleasantly, “don’t keep me waiting.”
“Sorry.”
She stepped forward and retrieved it, her hand brushing Beatrice’s butt as she did, sending ripples of excitement through every cell of her body. This was going to be one of the hardest tasks she’d ever performed.
Wash back, don’t touch. How hard can it be?
She brushed the soapy sponge over Beatrice’s shoulders, being careful not to go beyond the invisible line she’d drawn across Beatrice’s lower back. She tried not to even look down there with all that white foam running over it.
Be professional, you can do this.
They’d gone beyond the professional now, though. They were both naked in the shower. The mask she’d used to control herself around Beatrice when they were working together hadn’t simply slipped; it was being washed down the drain at that very moment.
Rubbing the sponge over every inch of Beatrice’s back — several times for good measure — she reached up to wipe away the soap with her hand and then placed a kiss on her shoulder. That was harmless, right? A simple display of affection, no funny business.
Beatrice groaned as she arched into the touch.
