Chapter 24: Her Father's House

In the first week of May, Alana could no longer see her own feet.

She stood at the bathroom door at nine at night with one hand on the small of her back.

Henrik had run the bath.

The old tub in the upstairs bathroom was deep and long, and the water was steaming.

"Get in," he said. "Before it goes cold."

"You're giving orders."

"I'm asking."

"Ask better."

"Will you please get in the bath, Alana?"

She smiled.

"Yes."

She undressed, with the lamp on the sink making her shadow long on the tile.

He had never looked at her so openly as he did now.

Her belly was high and round, and the moles on her shoulders were dark in the warm light.

She did not cover herself.

She stepped into the water and sank down with a long groan.

He undressed and got in behind her.

She leaned back against his chest, and his arms came around her.

His hands spread on her stomach.

The baby kicked, hard, right under his palm.

He laughed against her hair.

"She's saying hello."

"She's saying move."

"You don't know it's a she."

"I know." He kissed her wet shoulder. "I've known since the dock."

She turned her head.

"Tell me what you want."

"You know what I want."

"Say it out loud."

His mouth was at her ear.

"I want to touch you. I want you to tell me how."

"Slowly."

"Yes."

His hand slid down under the water.

He found her and circled, light and patient, and she let her head fall back on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

"There," she breathed. "Like that."

"Like that?"

"Yes. Keep going. Don't stop."

He did not stop.

He moved his fingers in a slow circle until her hips began to lift into his hand.

The water lapped at the rim of the tub.

His other arm held her under the breasts.

She felt him hard against her back, hot and heavy, and she reached behind her and took hold of him.

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