He heard the sound of water sloshing faintly from the direction of his private bathing chamber the moment he stepped into the bedroom. Ragnar should have turned around and walked out. That was what a decent man would have done in his place, after all. But his feet stayed rooted to the spot, unwilling to move.
It was Circe that was in there now. There was no one else who would dare use his washroom. The realization that only a single wall separated them now sent a warmth through his veins, a heat that had no business existing.
Unbidden, his mind conjured an image of her beyond that wall. Naked. Water droplets glinting off her bare skin in the dim light, trailing down the curve of her back, slipping between…
Ragnar tensed and immediately banished the thought, dragging it back down to the dark crevice of his mind it had emerged from. Thoughts like that were dangerous. Forbidden. He shouldn't even be entertaining them.
And yet...
