and always , always , he 'd sat in the van , picturing hannah in that bathtub , surrounded by candles and the faint strains of a piano concerto , her skin slick and shiny with water as the light danced across her flesh , her body as warm and fragrant as the steam rising from the water , her hair piled high atop her head , a few errant tresses falling damply over her shoulders , clinging to her wet nape , her wet br**sts .