He was methodical, gentle. He shampooed her hair twice, working his fingers through the dark strands until the water ran clear. He washed her face carefully, removing the blood and what remained of the theatrical makeup or mask residue. He cleaned her arms, her hands, paying special attention to her hands, where the blood had dried under her nails.
Through it all, Tang Fei remained limp, unresponsive. The perfect picture of exhausted sleep.
But Huo Ting Cheng noticed things. The way her breathing hitched slightly when his fingers brushed certain spots. The almost imperceptible flutter of her eyelashes when he washed her face. There was a tension in her shoulders that never quite released.
She was awake. Very much awake.
When he was satisfied that all the blood was gone, he turned off the water and reached for a towel. He dried her carefully, then wrapped her in a large, fluffy bathrobe.
