"Steven sighed. "Emma." She was tapping one foot. "What?" "I'm going to need more help." Emma gnawed on her lower lip before answering. "What do you mean?" "I can't wash my back, or my hair." Squeezing her eyes shut, Emma extended her hands and groped her way to the big, clawfooted bathtub. She smacked the edge sharply with her knee, and her eyes flew open. Steven was looking up at her with mischief in his gaze. He'd covered his private parts with a washcloth, but the rest of him was revealed in all its blatantly masculine glory. Emma decided she'd never get the project behind her if she didn't turn to and work at it, so she rolled up her sleeves and knelt beside the tub. Trying not to think about what she was doing, she scoured Steven's back and shampooed his hair, which felt like silk between her fingers."