I slid the glass door open.
The heat hit me like a physical weight, a wet, tropical embrace that immediately began to wash away the grit of the private jet and the lingering stench of the butchery.
Sasha was standing directly under the oversized showerhead, her head tilted back, her eyes squeezed shut as the water hammered against her skin. Her hair was a dark, soaked curtain clinging to the small of her back.
She didn't open her eyes, but she felt the shift in the air, the sudden presence of heat behind her. A slow, knowing smile spread across her lips.
"I thought the business would keep you all night," she whispered, her voice vibrating through the humidity.
