The Ashtons - Cole, Abigail & Megan

she went into the master bath, dumped a gallon of bubble bath into the massive tub and turned on the faucets. While jasmine-scented bubbles stirred the surface and steam lifted to fog the mirrors, Megan stripped out of her work clothes and dropped everything onto the cool sky-blue tiles. Then she picked up the bottle of brute cuvée sparkling wine, which she’d liberated from the tasting room onthe estate, and poured herself a glass. With the first sip, she smiled and breathed a relaxed sigh.
    Setting the glass down on the countertop, she looked into the mirror and watched herself scoop her hair onto the top of her head and pin it into place. Then, grinning, she picked up her glass of wine and stepped into a tub made for a queen.
    Hot water still rushed into the tub, and as she settled herself, Megan felt the strain of the last couple of days drain away. Cool wine, hot water and the soothing scent of jasmine. Everything a girl could need.
    “Okay,” she murmured, having another sip, “not everything.” And just like that, her thoughts returned to the man who was her husband. Her brain had been doing that a lot lately, she realized. While talking on the phone to suppliers or caterers, she caught herself doodling Simon’s name on a pad of paper. While talking a nervous bride through her first visit to the reception hall, she remembered her own walk down that aisle and the look on Simon’s face just before he’d kissed her.
    Her body stirred uncomfortably and she shifted, sliding down deeper into the frothy water. Scowling now, she said, “It doesn’t mean anything. Of course you’re a little itchy. You’re sleeping beside a naked man every night.”
    She groaned tightly and remembered the morning after their wedding when Simon had tossed back the covers and walked across the room stark naked. It hadtaken every ounce of her willpower not to call him back and demand he do incredible things to her body.
    “Oh man.” Megan gulped at the wine to ease her suddenly dry throat. It didn’t help.
    As the water sluiced over her skin, she sat up, leaned forward and shut off the taps. Now there was just the slosh of the water around her and the music surging from the other room. She tipped her head back and stared out the bay window beside her at the night. The first time she’d showered in here, she’d worried about giving a peep show to whoever might have a handy telescope.
    But Simon had reassured her, saying that they were on top of a hill in the middle of thirty acres—so her privacy was ensured in the second-story bathroom. And now that she could relax about it, Megan had to admit that it felt a little decadent to be naked in front of an uncurtained window.
    “Okay, either too much wine or not enough,” she muttered and looked over at the bottle sitting where she’d left it on the counter. “Damn it.”
    “Thirsty?”
    “Whoops!” Megan shouted and slid beneath the veil of bubbles, all the while glaring at the doorway. Simon grinned and leaned one shoulder against the doorjamb. “You scared me to death.”
    He straightened and shrugged off his suit jacket, tossing it behind him into the bedroom. “You would have heard me if you didn’t have the music on so loud.”
    She stretched out one hand and gathered in a few more bubbles, arranging them strategically over her still-submerged body. “You could have said something.”
    “I did.”
    “Oh. Right.”
    He smiled and held up the bottle. “More wine?”
    “Yeah, please.” Carefully, she held up her glass, keeping a wary eye on the bubble front.
    “I’ll join you if you don’t mind.”
    “Sure,” she said, thinking there was plenty of wine to go around.
    He refilled her glass, then left the room and came back with another for himself. After filling it to the rim, he took a sip, smiled his approval. “Not bad.”
    “We, of Ashton Estates and Winery, thank you,” she said, lifting her glass in salute. “This is our most popular wine, you know,” she continued, hoping to fill the silence even if she was only talking about wine. “People buy it by the vat load and—what’re you doing?”
    Setting his glass down on the counter, Simon unbuttoned his shirt and yanked the hem of it out of his trousers.
    “Simon?” Megan kept one eye on him and the other on her quickly dissipating blanket of bubbles.
    “Joining you,” he said and undid his belt, then the button and zipper of his slacks. “You said you didn’t mind.”
    “Joining me in