Sally's POV
Philip guides me toward the bathroom, switching on the soft light above the mirror. The warm amber glow bathes the small space in gentle radiance. He pushes up his sleeves and turns on the faucet, water cascading into the porcelain tub.
I watch him from the doorway, studying the concentrated expression on his face, the careful way his broad shoulders shift as he adjusts the taps. This simple act of care makes something flutter in my chest. Seeing him like this, without the commanding Alpha presence, just a man ensuring his loved ones are looked after, feels incredibly intimate.
"You realize I can manage a bath on my own," I comment, amusement threading through my voice.
He shoots me a sideways glance, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I'm aware."
"So why the personal service?"
"Because taking care of you makes me happy." He tests the water temperature against his wrist, then adjusts the cold tap. "And because right now, I don't trust you to handle this properly."
