No, he told himself. As much as he wanted her, they both knew nothing could ever come of this. He wanted love, not a few moments’ pleasure.
“Can you help me rinse my hair?” she asked.
Duncan turned and saw she knelt in the tub, her wet hair soapy and lathered. She pointed to the half-full pail of cooling water on the side of the tub. Duncan lifted it.
“Just pour it over my hair,” she said. “And try not to drown me.”
She arched back as he lifted the pail. Dear God, she was trying to kill him. How was he supposed to not react to the sight of her in that position? He poured the water over her hair, averting his eyes from her jutting breasts and the long column of her throat. Unfortunately, now he could see the way the water and the suds sluiced down her bare back and over her hips and buttocks.
“That’s heaven,” she said and stood. It was heaven. He couldn’t argue. She was so incredibly beautiful. How was he supposed to resist her? She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Could I have a towel?”
“Of course.” He reached for one and handed it to her. She wrapped it about her body then offered her hand. He helped her out and steered her toward the hearth. She knelt on the rug, and he fetched a blanket to drape over her shoulders.
“Thank you. I was wearier than I thought. I really wasn’t trying to seduce you,” she said, her gaze resting on his erection then flicking away.
“I’ve seen you lie much better than that,” he said, going to the table and bringing the tray from his dinner to her.
She smiled. “Very well. I was trying. A little.” She lifted the lid from a tureen of soup and breathed in. “The bath has restored me. I’m ravenous.”
So was he.
He watched as she lifted a spoon and ate right from the soup tureen, alternating with bites of the crusty bread Michaud made fresh every morning. She held the blanket around her shoulders, keeping it tightly closed at the center of her chest, but it would part slightly when she bent, and Duncan was trying desperately not to look in that direction.
He distracted himself by asking about the magistrate and thanking her for taking on that task. She waved his appreciation away. “I can see the finger marks on your throat. You’re lucky to be alive. Really, I should be the one taking care of you.”
“I’m fine. We took care of each other.”
Her gaze met his, the hunger in her eyes so evident it sent a bolt of heat through him. “We make a good team. I’m glad Baron put us together.”
Duncan swallowed. “So am I. Lucy—”
She shook her head. “You don’t have to warn me away again. I admire your commitment to your vow to abstain until you find love.” She took a last spoonful of soup and replaced the tureen’s lid. “I don’t want to be the reason you break that vow, so it’s probably time I go to my own chamber.” She rose and moved past him.
Duncan sat very still, and at the last possible second, he reached out and grasped her arm. What was he doing? Why didn’t he just let her go?
She went very still. Duncan stood and drew her back to stand before him. Her eyes rose to meet his.
“I don’t want you to go,” he said.
“I don’t want to go. Nor do I want to be the cause of your regrets or self-flagellation.”
“I won’t regret this, but if I let you walk away tonight, I’ll never forgive myself.”
“This is the part where I say that I’ll walk away and save you the conflict. The truth is, Duncan, I’m not that strong. I want you. Badly.”
“Then stay.” He reached for the hand clasped at her heart and opened it so the blanket fell away, taking the towel with it. “No regrets,” he whispered.
She stood naked before him, and he winced at the scrapes and bruises covering her body.
“That bad?” She ran a hand down over her breasts to her belly.
“If you hadn’t already killed the man, I would kill him for every single mark he put on you.” He traced the path she had taken, down her body, moving slowly to palm a breast and spread his hand over her quivering belly. Her hand moved lower, and he let her take his and guide it to the warmth between her legs. She pressed his hand there then reached for his trousers.
“These look uncomfortable,” she said, tracing her hand over his straining cock. She opened the buttons of his trousers and put her hand around his cock, stroking him as he stroked her. Releasing him, she grasped his wrist. “Before we go too far, take off your clothes. I want to see you.”
“Do you?”
She waved a hand at him. “Go on.”
