The Ashtons - Cole, Abigail & Megan

the wine,” she said quickly, holding up her glass and pointing at it for emphasis. “The wine.”
    He picked up his glass, took a sip, then studied it, frowning. “Not enough room for both of us in there.”
    “Very funny.”
    “But there’s plenty of room in there,” he said, nodding at the tub.
    Her body sizzled.
    Whoa.
    Megan gulped in air and when that didn’t help, gulped down more wine. Good heavens. She hadn’t meant—didn’t think he’d—but now he— help me.
    He undressed quickly, dropping his clothes onto the floor to join her own discarded heap of clothing. Megan closed her eyes, telling herself it was way safer that way.
    But she peeked anyway.
    Couldn’t help herself.
    And she was willing to challenge any woman to be able to look away from a body like Simon’s.
    He was tall and lean, yet well muscled. His abdomen was a sharply defined six-pack and his chest was broad, tanned and only lightly dusted with black hair. His hips were narrow, his legs long and his—she swallowed another mouthful of wine. Oh, boy.
    Simon picked up his wineglass and stepped over the edge of the tub. He winced and hissed in a breath. “I didn’t know you were trying to boil yourself alive.”
    She shrugged, then scooped more bubbles up toher neck in a futile attempt to hide the body he’d already gotten plenty glimpses of. “I like hot water.”
    “There’s hot, and then there’s simmering,” he muttered, sliding carefully into the water on the opposite side of the tub from her. As he quickly became accustomed to the heat though, he had to admit it felt great. Ordinarily, he wasn’t the kind of guy to go for jasmine-scented bubbles—or baths, for that matter—but he was up for something new. Something… interesting.
    “I thought you were going to work late,” she said, gulping at her wine.
    “I was,” he admitted, then frowned to himself. He’d had every intention of staying at the office most of the night. But thoughts of Megan had haunted him, making concentration impossible. How was a man supposed to think about bottom lines when he couldn’t get a certain woman’s bottom out of his mind?
    This had never happened to him before.
    He thrived on control.
    Simon Pearce ruled his universe.
    He took another slug of the cold wine and let it slide down his throat. Then his gaze shifted to his wife. The woman who had moved into his house and upset his routine. The woman he wanted under him, over him, around him. The woman he fantasized about making love to.
    The woman who was making him nuts.
    “So how’s work?” she asked.
    “Great.” One word, ground out of a suddenly tight throat.
    “Yeah, me, too.”
    He frowned thoughtfully. “Have you heard from your father yet?”
    “No,” she said and tried to shrug the thought aside, but he saw the glitter in her eyes that told him she was worried. “I don’t know what he’s waiting for either.”
    “Maybe he’s not as upset as you thought he’d be.”
    She laughed shortly, but there was no humor in it. Only more worry. “Trust me, that’s not it.”
    “So why would he wait?”
    “To up the tension,” she muttered reluctantly. “That’s how Spencer Ashton maneuvers.” She frowned and sipped at her wine again. “‘Keep your opponent off guard,’ that’s his number one rule. And he uses it even with his family. Heck,” she corrected herself, “especially with his family. He’s always been like this and I fall for it every time.” She slapped the bathwater and sloshed a mini wave over the edge of the dark blue tub. “Instead of putting it out of my mind, I fret about it and think about it and in general drive myself nuts long before Father can lower his boom.”
    Simon’s brain whipped through memories of his own childhood and mentally compared his parents to hers. Or at least, their fathers. Simon’s father had been a great guy. Good father, honest businessman and devoted husband. All in all, a hard act to follow—which was probably why he’d taken so long todecide to get married. And why, when he did make the decision, he’d chosen a woman who didn’t have high expectations of love. Because damn it, he didn’t like the idea of divorce. Even though he’d walked right into marriage with Megan with a divorce all neatly laid out for them at the end of a year.
    But, he thought now, that year-end was a long way away and for the moment, he was in a bathtub, with his wife. Maybe he couldn’t help her with the worries clogging