Come,’ she said, waving them into the shop proper. ‘It is good for the man to choose the soap for the woman. Choose now, benefit later, no?’
‘No,’ said Sienna, but the saleswoman ignored her.
‘This one,’ she said, and handed Lex a block of soap. ‘Ylang ylang and lemongrass. Smell good, no?’
Lex sniffed. Considered. Decided. And all without giving Sienna a second glance. ‘No,’ he said as he handed the soap back to the woman. ‘She’s more of a rosehip kind of girl.’
‘I am not!’ said Sienna.
‘Rosehip and vanilla?’ said the saleswoman, picking up another block of soap and offering it to him. ‘This one you like?’
‘Hello,’ said Sienna. ‘Over here.’
‘Got anything with ginger in it?’ said Lex.
‘Sandalwood and ginger,’ said the woman and passed that one to him as well. ‘Also matching body lotion, hand cream, and shampoo.’
‘Sold,’ said Lex and produced a wallet from his trouser pocket. ‘Don’t bother wrapping it.’
‘How sweet,’ murmured Sienna. ‘You think we’re done here.’
‘We are done here.’ He strode towards the register. ‘You wanted soap. You got soap. And moisturiser, and shampoo. What more could you possibly need?’
This wasn’t about need. It was about shopping. Possibly about revenge. ‘There’s a men’s range.’
‘No,’ he said hastily.
‘Oh, yes.’ Sienna studied him serenely. If he thought he could treat her like a charity case and pick up the tab for her expenses he was mistaken. She wasn’t on the poverty line yet. She could still afford soap.
The saleswoman studied him too. ‘So much hurry,’ she said. ‘Does he have airplane to catch?’
‘He just got off one.’ Lex opened his mouth to speak. ‘He’s about to tell you he already has soap,’ Sienna murmured. ‘Anyone would think he’s not a patient man.’
‘A man with no patience is like an ocean without fish,’ said the woman, and continued to study Lex. ‘Why even cast the net?’
‘I have fish,’ said Lex indignantly. ‘I have plenty of fish.’
‘Of course you do.’ Sienna couldn’t quite hide her smirk. Who’d have thought there’d be such joy to be had in a transit terminal soap shop?
‘Allspice and lemon thyme?’ offered the saleswoman.
Close. There was no denying the man’s edibility, although she fully intended to. ‘I’m thinking cinnamon.’
‘Cinnamon and orange,’ said the woman, picking up a nearby block of soap and handing it to her. ‘Good choice.’
Sienna took it. Sniffed it. ‘I don’t know… I’m not sure…’ And with devilry in mind she said, ‘He may need to try it on.’
‘How—?’ he began, and then spied the basin and tap. ‘No.’
Oh, yes. ‘I’d hate to choose wrong. Imagine if the aroma didn’t complement your manly essence?’
‘Sienna, it’s soap.’
‘How little you know,’ she said and reached for his arm, pushing his jacket sleeve up to his elbow before taking his wrist and turning it to expose the inside of his forearm. ‘Think of the fish.’
The saleswoman slapped a damp cloth on his skin and deftly wet him from elbow to wrist. ‘The soap will slide,’ she said.
The soap did slide. And somewhere between elbow and wrist Sienna lost the upper hand and Lex found it.
‘Now you rub with your hands,’ the saleswoman told her. ‘I take the soap.’
Lex’s mouth curved lazily and his eyes gleamed. ‘I like a firm touch,’ he murmured.
He got one and winced, doubtless from pleasure.
‘She’s so obliging,’ he told the saleswoman. ‘Really. Ouch!’
‘A woman without spirit is like a sky with no clouds,’ said the woman.
‘Perfect?’ said Lex.
‘No. Such a sky will never quench your thirst.’
‘Isn’t that what bottled water’s for?’ said Lex, and winced some more as Sienna’s thumb accidentally encountered another soft spot. ‘Easy, sweetheart. You’re bruising the goods.’
‘Sorry.’ Sienna trailed her fingernails lightly down his arm, leaving a row of wavy snakelike tracks in the lather. Lex shuddered ever so slightly and his eyes flashed a heated warning.
‘Keep it up, Sienna, and you will be.’
Oh, dear. There it was again—exhilaration, illumination, and a powerful curiosity about what Lex might bring to a sexual relationship—all of it coalescing into a tight ball of sensation deep in the pit of her stomach. Sienna moved to the sink, washed the soap from her hands and stood back to let Lex wash his arm, acutely aware that lathering him in cinnamon soap hadn’t been one of her better ideas.
She wasn’t six any more; Lex wasn’t her indulgent older playmate.
She wasn’t a skinny, smart-mouthed fifteen-year-old any more either; Lex wasn’t her confidante and protector.
Lex dried his hands and arms with a paper towel and turned towards her, every movement a subtle challenge, and Sienna realised with blinding clarity that those days were over.
He put his forearm to his nose, took a whiff, shrugged, and held his arm up towards her, those knowing grey eyes daring her to play out the scene to completion. Maybe she ought to add ‘too easily led’ to her side of the equation, she thought wryly, because she knew instinctively that breathing him in was going to cost her control she could ill afford to lose. But she closed her eyes and breathed deeply anyway.
The aroma of cinnamon came first, then citrus, then Lex. The ache in her stomach pulled tighter.
‘How does it combine with my manly essence?’ he murmured, his voice a low, husky rumble that sounded like sin and burned like the devil.
‘Quite well,’ she whimpered, her eyes still tightly closed.
‘I was aiming a little higher than quite well.’ Had he moved closer? Was it his body that was on fire or was it hers? Because something here was burning, nothing surer. Something brushed her ear and she shivered hard. His hair, she thought at first. No, maybe his cheek. His lips… ‘Maybe we should try a different soap on the other arm,’ he whispered.
Sienna stumbled back a step and opened her eyes and immediately wished she hadn’t. There it was again: The Look. And Lex didn’t look tired or edgy or in any way
