He’d left her other arm lying along the lip of the tub. Lifting her finger, she grazed the tip of it from his collarbone to the center of his chest and knew victory when his eyes slid closed.
He hated that this strong woman was doubting herself, hated even more that he was having to work so hard not to take advantage of the situation. His true motive had been to make her feel clean again, but when she touched him with little more than the tip of a finger, it was all he could do not to join her in the tub. He’d even keep his trousers on. He just wanted to take her in his arms and hold her close.
Instead he set that lovely hand back on the edge of the tub and moved behind her. “Sit up. I’ll get your back.”
“You’re determined to wash all of me.”
Every bloody inch, and for some spots, he wasn’t averse to not using the linen, but rather his tongue. The water splashed in minute waves as she brought her knees to her chest, leaned forward, and wrapped her arms around them, placing her cheek against them, revealing the delicate expanse of her back. “I suspect you weren’t able to reach here earlier.”
“No, not all of it.”
Setting the linen aside, he rubbed the soap between his hands until it nearly slipped from his grasp. After putting the soap within easy reach, he spread his hands wide and laid them against the center of her back. Slowly he glided them up and over her shoulders, down and across her hips. Her low moan caused him to smile. “Like that?”
“Very much. I have a feeling it’s very, very dirty and is going to need you to go over it several times.”
It was the most lighthearted thing she’d said since the early hours of the morning, and his chest expanded with pleasure and triumph. Easing up, he rested his lips against her ear, relishing the feel of the damp tendril that had escaped her bun catching in his whiskers. “Feeling cleaner?”
“Remarkably so. You touch me as though he doesn’t matter.”
“He doesn’t. You are your own woman, Fancy. I knew that the moment I first walked into your shop and saw you.” With the pads of his thumbs and fingers, he kneaded her shoulders and back, her skin slick and like silk beneath his touch.
She groaned. “I’ve never experienced anything like that before.”
“The other ways I’ve touched you... have you experienced them?”
Turning her head slightly, she looked back with a mischievous smile on her face that brought him more joy than anything else in his life ever had. “I’d accuse you of taking liberties, but I’m afraid it would make you stop.”
“I won’t stop until you tell me to.”
“Then we’ll be here until dawn.”
“The water will grow cold. It’s already cooling.”
“But you’ll warm me, won’t you?”
In ways he shouldn’t. “I’ll always warm you.”
“Are you dirty, Matthew?”
His breath hitched, his lungs froze. Danger lurked on the horizon, and he ignored it. “I certainly can be.”
She gave a little laugh, twisted slightly, and reached back for him. “I want your entire body to wash all of mine.”
“Fancy, my resistance to you is weakening by the minute. I want you to know that to me you are no different today than you were yesterday. But if I shed my trousers and climb into that tub—”
She pressed her fingers to his lips. “I know. But I want to feel clean inside and out. I want to be clean all over.”
She’d never been quite so brazen, so bold. But then neither had she ever wanted anything as much as she wanted him. Not just his hands, but every inch of him.
He made the past not matter, only the present, only the future. While she knew that lords wanted their wives untouched, she was no longer certain she was going to follow that path.
Not because of the man who’d sired her. Matthew had the right of that. Dibble was inconsequential, nothing to her. He’d planted his seed and moved on. He had no claim on her. And even if she disagreed with Matthew’s assessment of her chin, she knew it didn’t matter. The love that had surrounded her as she’d grown up had mitigated anything at all that had to do with the man who’d come to her door with his ugliness. She’d allowed viciousness to seep into her, but Matthew had countered it with tenderness and care.
And he was the reason she was questioning her future, that this moment felt perfect and right. She knew that no matter what tomorrow brought, she would not regret what she felt now.
She watched as he unbuttoned the fall of his trousers. As he shoved them down and stepped out of them, she caught sight of his feet and realized why he’d been so quiet entering earlier. He’d removed his boots. Lifting her gaze, she stopped it halfway up, having caught sight of something more. “Aren’t you magnificent?” she asked, her voice low and raspy.
“Are you referring to me or my cock?”
