Chapter 19 The Truth in Steam
"My life is no longer mine to control where Alex is concerned. I've fought it for too long. I just can't..."
Sarah sighed.
"Perhaps, I should actually stop fighting it so hard and just let myself spend every moment he offers in his arms."
The bathroom was a sanctuary of white marble and cedar, but tonight, it felt like a gilded cage.
Steam rose in thick, lazy plumes from the surface of the water, clinging to the walls and blurring the edges of the room. Sarah sat deep in the tub, the water reaching her collarbones.
She stared at the silver faucet, listening to the rhythmic drip-drip-drip that she had once hated, but now, it was the only thing keeping her grounded.
She heard the heavy thud of footsteps on the stairs. A few minutes ago, Alex had gone down to wait while she took her bath, but now he was back. The door creaked open, and the heat of the room seemed to intensify.
"I thought I told you I could handle this myself, Alex," Sarah said, her voice barely a whisper. She didn't look at him. She couldn't.
"You say a lot of things, Sarah," Alex replied. His voice was smooth, like dark honey, and entirely too close.
He didn’t leave. Instead, he pulled the vanity stool toward the edge of the tub and sat down. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, watching her with an intensity that made the water feel scalding. Sarah gripped the sides of the porcelain tub, her knuckles white.
"You’re still here. That's not what we agreed on a few minutes ago, Alex," she noted, finally meeting his gaze.
"I’d like to watch," he said simply. There was no shame in his expression, only a raw, possessive interest.
"You look beautiful when you’re trying to think your way out of a corner."
Sarah let out a jagged breath, her chest rising and falling beneath the bubbles.
"I'm not in a corner. I'm in a bath. And you’re being impossible."
"Am I?" Alex reached out, his hand trailing through the water near her knee. He didn't touch her skin yet, but the wake of his movement sent shivers through her.
"You’ve been tense all day. Your shoulders are up to your ears. You’re wondering about the lawyer. You’re wondering how I knew."
Sarah went still. The mention of Crude Farwell brought the cold reality of the afternoon crashing back into the humid room.
"He said you threatened him. He said you came to his office and scared him so badly he quit. Why would you do that, Alex? He was my only defense against Joseph."
Alex didn’t flinch. He didn’t look guilty. If anything, he looked bored by the reminder of the man.
"He wasn't your defense. He was a vulture. I told you, Sarah, I’m the only one who really looks out for you."
"That's not an answer!" Sarah snapped, sitting up straighter, the water cascading down her shoulders.
"You can’t just go around intimidating professionals because you feel like it. You’re twenty-two years old, Alex! You’re acting like a criminal."
"I'm acting like a man who knows when someone is overstepping," he countered. His voice dropped an octave, turning ice-cold.
"I didn't go there to scare him for fun. I went there to see who he was. I wanted to see the man my Sarah was trusting with her future."
"And?"
"And I saw him," Alex said, his eyes darkening to a shade of midnight.
"I stood in the hallway. I watched through the glass of his office door. I saw the way he looked at you. It wasn't professional. It was hungry. And then I saw him reach out. I saw him touch your arm, sliding his hand up toward your shoulder when you clearly wanted him to stop."
Sarah felt a chill run down her spine that had nothing to do with the temperature.
"You were there? You followed me to my legal appointment?"
"I'm always there, mama," he whispered. The nickname, usually so playful, now felt heavy with a sense of surveillance.
"I saw you flinch. I saw the way you looked at the door, wishing you could leave. He touched you without your consent. He thought because you were a 'vulnerable' divorcee, he could press his luck. He thought he could trade his legal skills for a piece of you."
Sarah looked away, her heart hammering. She remembered the way Crude’s hand had felt—clammy and lingering. She had hated it, but she had been prepared to endure it just to keep Joseph at bay.
"I could have handled it," she said, though her voice lacked conviction.
"No, you wouldn't have," Alex said, standing up and towering over the tub.
"You would have let him keep doing it because you’re so afraid of losing your business. You would have let that pig put his hands on you just to stay 'professional.' Well, I don't care about professional. I care about what’s mine."
Sarah was shaking her head. Maybe he hadn't heard her clearly tell him not to ever try that madness with her, but he wasn't exactly listening.
He stepped closer, the towel around his waist slipping slightly. He looked down at her with a terrifying, protective heat.
"I went back after you left. I didn't have to say much. I just made sure he understood that if he ever breathed in your direction again, he wouldn't just be losing a client. He’d be losing his ability to walk to his car."