Page 78 of A Witch in Notting Hill

My spiral was interrupted by a pair of yellow-green eyes peering around the edge of the doorway. A measured, knowing stare that said,Watch yourself.Cats always did have that weird way about them, didn’t they? Like they knew something youdidn’t. Like they were watching you, judging you, even when you were simply minding your own business.

Which I was. Sort of.

I averted my gaze when she scampered out of the room, and that was when I caught Willow’s eye. A stolen glance in the reflection of a foggy bathroom mirror. Her hands in her hair, a stream of water down her back, perfectly angled collar bones under the straps of her bikini that made me wish more than I was willing to admit that the mirror showed more. Her parted lips moved only slightly, just enough to mouth the wordhi.

She wasn’t embarrassed to be seen. She welcomed it.

Hi, I mouthed back, on pins and needles for what came next. I kept my eyes trained on her lips, which I likely would have done whether she was talking to me or not.

“Come here.”

Would she ever stop surprising me?

“Me, or the cat?” I teased, fighting an embarrassing smile when she rolled her eyes. I stood up from the bed, taking slow, calculated steps toward the bathroom. Giving her plenty of time to change her mind.

With every step, more of her body was revealed in her reflection. Freckled shoulders, round breasts, the tempting, soft curve of her stomach. I couldn’t believe I got to see her like this. What had I possibly done to get so lucky?

“You were soaking wet today, too,” she said once I cleared the threshold. “Thought you might also want a shower.”

Every word after “soaking wet”sounded like gibberish.

“I can, er, I can get in once you’re out,” I said. I didn’t want to push my luck. I couldn’t believe I was even in this bathroom in the first place. But she was right. I did desperately need a shower. The dry pair of clothes I’d taken for myself before the Tube ride was hardly a substitute for being clean, and I was desperate to wash the pond water from my hair.

“You don’t have to wait,” she said.

God, this woman.

She kept her eyes locked on mine as I undressed, not looking away even when the candles blew out one by one.

I left my clothes in a heap on the floor save for my boxer briefs, following her lead. If she was anything like I was, she was washing the swimsuit in the shower like I used to do after the beach, and my clothes could use the same.

I pulled the door open slowly, savoring the anticipation, before stepping in behind her and letting the steam engulf me.

Chapter 27

Willow

This was happening. The candles were out and the bathroom was dark and I was terrified disaster was about to strike, but this was happening. And if there was anything I could do to keep disaster at bay, now was the time to try. There were times for panicking, and being in the shower with Oliver Hadley at my back was not one of them.

“Look up,” he said, and I resisted the urge to tease him for being bossy just in case it made him stop. I really,reallydidn’t want him to stop. So I did as I was told and tilted my head toward the ceiling.

He gathered my hair in his hands, brushing it off my face in smooth strokes. It felt heavenly. Like my body had never known the horrors of this morning.

He slid his large hands from the top of my head down the sides of my neck, settling them on my shoulders and digging his thumbs into the space between the blades. The rhythm of his touch nearly brought me to my knees.

“Feel good?” he asked.

“You have no idea,” I murmured, letting my eyes close and my head drop to his shoulder. His laugh was quiet, and I was grateful for the layer of clothing between us, no matter how thin it might have been. Without it, there was no telling what I’d have done in that state.

I tried not to shiver as he traced his hands down the sides of my waist, massaging the same slow circles into my lower back. His fingers curled around my hips, and I took half a step closer to him.

“Willow,” he whispered in my ear, his lips just grazing the shell.

“I know,” I said. Because I did. And because hearing him say everything I was thinking would have reduced me to ashes and washed me down the drain.

We were getting carried away. And I knew better. But it was too good to stop.

I squeezed my eyes closed, fighting the tingling sensation that was beginning in my fingers at the very thought of him letting go.