"For one thing," Solomon said, "you have lovely hair." Though he preferred it shorter, for practical aesthetic reasons--Raine was a practical woman, and shorter hair as a practicality suited her better. Solomon spread some of it across the towel, gently teasing out the knots. It was a unique colour, too--not an aged sort of grey, but a purer white that was almost blue.

"For another thing," Solomon murmured against her head, close to her ear, "you have very skillful hands." He was close enough that she ought to be able to feel the rumble of his voice in his chest, and the air from his breath brush her skin.