The early light filtering through the sheer curtains painted golden stripes across the wooden floor. It was a quiet morning, one of those rare ones where the air felt still, as if the world itself was holding its breath. Liana stood in the kitchen, absentmindedly drying a glass, her thoughts lingering on the soft smile Nash had given her just moments ago before heading to the shower.
She wasn't used to it yet—being seen. Not just looked at, but noticed. Nash had been different lately. Gentler. Kinder. He'd asked about her dreams the night before, complimented the way she wore her hair, even laughed softly when she accidentally spilled a little milk on the counter. He'd wiped it for her. That wasn't the kind of man she thought he was. That wasn't how men usually behaved around her.
And yet here she was, heart thudding in her chest over a smile and a few words. She leaned against the kitchen counter and closed her eyes, allowing herself to feel that flutter inside her—the one that came only when he was near.
The sound of running water echoed from the upstairs bathroom, and then, a deep voice cut through the steam and quiet like velvet.
"Liana," Nash called out, his tone muffled slightly but still unmistakably firm, "can you bring me my towel, please? I forgot to bring one in the rush."
Her eyes opened slowly. The sound of his voice always did something to her. Stirred something beneath her skin she couldn't explain. She hesitated for a second, then padded barefoot toward the linen cabinet, her nighty brushing lightly against her thighs.
She selected a thick, soft white towel and walked slowly toward the bathroom door. Steam curled from beneath the crack, swirling around her feet like a fog. Her hand hesitated just a moment at the doorknob.
"It's just a towel," she whispered to herself, trying to calm her nerves.
She knocked gently. "I brought it."
Before she could fully lift her arm to hang it on the hook by the door, the handle turned. A strong, wet hand gripped her wrist and pulled her inside.
Liana gasped.
The heat of the steam wrapped around her body instantly. The bathroom was like a dream—misty, wet, warm. Nash stood before her, soaked and bare from the waist up, droplets of water clinging to his skin like dew. His hair was slicked back, darkened by the water, and his eyes… they weren't soft like before. They burned
She opened her mouth to speak, stunned by how close his body was—his skin nearly brushing her thin nighty, the damp air pressing them closer.
"Nash… don't you have to go to the office?" she whispered, voice trembling as her gaze flickered to his mouth and then back to his eyes. "You said you have a business trip…"
Nash didn't answer immediately. Instead, he lifted his hand and gently placed his index finger over her lips, silencing her.
"Ssshhh…" he murmured, his voice a deep, possessive whisper that sent a shiver down her spine.
He leaned in, his mouth brushing the shell of her ear as he spoke. "I won't be able to be with you tonight… so let me have you now."
Her breath hitched. Everything stilled.
Liana felt her knees go weak, her heart pounding loud enough to echo in the tiles around them. She could feel the heat radiating off him, the tension in the air so thick she could almost taste it. His words weren't rough—they were quiet, tender even—but they held an edge of dominance that stole her voice.
"I…" she tried, but the words melted on her tongue.
Nash looked down at her, his thumb brushing lightly across her cheekbone. "You're always so careful with me. Always pulling back. Why?"
Liana swallowed hard, eyes darting away. "Because… I don't know how to be close to people. Not like this."
Nash's expression didn't soften, but his gaze turned thoughtful. He reached for the edge of her nighty, the tips of his fingers damp as they brushed the fabric. "You don't have to know. You just have to let me in."
Her breath trembled in her chest.
She didn't move, didn't resist. Her nighty clung to her from the humid air, and his bare skin was so close it was unbearable. She could feel the hard planes of his chest just inches from her, could smell the faint scent of his body wash—earthy, fresh, masculine.
"I don't want to hurt you," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the drip of the shower.
"You won't," Nash murmured. "You already have me, Liana."
That was the moment she broke.
She didn't speak again. She didn't have to.
Nash moved slowly, carefully, watching her reaction as he pulled her closer. Her body molded into his like water taking the shape of its container. One of his hands cradled the back of her head while the other splayed across her lower back, holding her to him as if she belonged there.
She did.
His lips brushed her forehead first, then her temple, then finally found her mouth in a kiss that wasn't rough or demanding—but deep, lingering, full of things he hadn't said aloud. She melted under the touch, her fingers clinging to his wet shoulders, her eyes closed as if afraid this moment might vanish.
His lips were soft. His breath hot. And for a moment, the world stopped spinning. There was no business trip. No past. No fear. Only the heat between them and the water dripping onto the tiles.
The kiss deepened slowly. Nash's hand moved along the curve of her spine, coaxing her body to trust his. Liana didn't stop him. She couldn't. She didn't want to.
She'd spent so long feeling like a ghost in his mother's house with his family. And now… now she felt seen. Felt wanted. And not just for a moment—but fully, in every way that counted.
When his lips left hers, they trailed across her jaw, down to the pulse at her throat. Her breath caught as he lingered there, and then pulled back just enough to look at her.
"You feel this?" he whispered, placing her hand on his chest, right over his heart. "You did this."
Liana blinked, tears forming before she even realized. No one had ever looked at her like that after getting married to Nash. Like she mattered. Like she was something precious.
"I don't know what I'm doing," she admitted, voice breaking slightly.
Nash cupped her face, brushing away a tear with his thumb. "Then let me show you."
And slowly—so slowly—he brought her into the warmth of the shower.
The steam wrapped around them like a second skin. The water traced down their bodies, mingling as his hands moved to her shoulders and then lower, peeling the wet fabric of her nighty away with deliberate care. Every touch was meant to reassure. Every kiss meant to ground her.
And Liana? She let herself fall.
Not into danger.
But into something much scarier.
Trust.
She trusted his hands. His voice. The way he held her like she was breakable, even when his strength could crush her.
Minutes passed. Maybe hours. She didn't know anymore. All she knew was the rhythm of his breath against her neck, the way his arms wrapped around her when she trembled from something too new, too much.
He didn't rush her.
He didn't need to.
And when he finally pulled her fully against him, lifting her off the ground just slightly to press her closer, she didn't resist. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face into his shoulder.
"You don't have to go," she whispered suddenly, brokenly. "Not if it means leaving me like this."
Nash exhaled deeply. "I have to. But I'll come back just tomorrow as soon as I can finish the meetings there."
Liana didn't answer, just held him tighter.
And when he finally helped her step out of the shower, wrapping her in the same towel she had brought him, she looked up at him—wet hair clinging to her face, lips swollen from his kisses—and saw something in his eyes that told her this wasn't temporary.
That even when he left, even when the door closed behind him… she wouldn't be forgotten.
Later That Morning
He stood at the door with his bag in hands of a maid right besides him, freshly dressed, his hair still damp but combed back.
Liana stood in the hallway, watching him. Her nighty was gone now—she wore a simple cotton dress, but nothing could hide the flush on her skin or the softness in her eyes.
Nash looked back at her before turning the knob.
"Lock the doors. Don't open it for anyone but me, and all the maids will be with you if anything you want you can call me anytime" he said, his voice back to that firm tone—but now it sounded protective, not controlling.
She nodded silently.
"And Liana?"
Her eyes met his.
"I meant what I said," he murmured, stepping closer to touch her cheek again. "You already have me."
Then he kissed her, short but deeply, before turning and walking away.
The door closed with a soft click.
And for the first time in her marriage life, Liana didn't feel cold when she was alone.
She felt… full.
Alive.