"The Zarrikanian one! Oh yes, it's positively ridiculous--" he agrees and has to snort back the sudden laugh at her dig toward his rival. What a wonderful woman. She sits up and offers that smile back at him as she slides the soap across herself.

He pulls a slight face at the title, but says nothing to dissuade her teasing. He quite likes it, he finds.

"I would not object to a lovely woman washing my back for me, if she were so inclined," he responds diplomatically. He had to scrub the oil from himself--thick and luscious as it was, it would remain on him until he put in some concerted effort to remove it. That...was not a delicate or flirty request to be made. Once she was finished, he would clean whatever they had not.