<strong>Day Two  = Bathtime with Sam</strong><br/><br/>Irene wondered where he’d gone.  His eyes became guarded and she was sorry if she’d caused that to happen.  She was about to ask when he moved, rising from her perch on the tub as he came at her.  She watched him as his hands moved to the sash and he removed her kimono.  Smiling down at him as he stared at her again.<br/><br/>Was that it?  the lack of hair?  She let her hand settle on his head, gasping when he bent forward to kiss her, her fingers fisting in his hair.  Good heavens...she scolded herself.  A flipping KISS and she was gasping like a virgin on her wedding night.<br/><br/>When he backed off, she automatically released his hair and watched, warily.  He was just hanging her robe on the door.<br/><br/>Her eyes moved over him, noting the scars and wondering if that was where his mind had gone...  She blinked in surprise as he took her hand as he stepped into the tub.<br/><br/>In all her years, she’d never been offered to share.  She’d been allowed a secondary usage.  But, those who could afford a night and a bath, generally felt themselves above a prostitute and wouldn’t bathe with them.  She’d often washed a customer, getting fondled and probed whilst doing so, and even had a man who wanted to have sex in the empty tub, but never shared a clean water bath.<br/><br/>She smiled.  “Thank you, Mr. Markham."  She stepped into the tub with him.  And, then she found herself not quite knowing how to behave.  She hated being in this predicament.  She moved to get behind Sam Markham, figuring she’d be able to wash his hair and scrub his back, things not so easy to do alone.  “I’ll just sit behind you, to wash you, if you’d move aside,” she said, reverting to bossy bitch to cover her discomfort at not having a plan for this scenario.<br/>