“I’m certain your servants appreciate that.” At least, she could take pride in the tartness of her observation.
Again, he shrugged, as only an entitled, self-assured lord could.
It was damned attractive.
“They are well compensated.”
She couldn’t deny this. The pay she’d been offered as a scullery had taken her by surprise. It was a more generous amount than most households offered girls who surely had no other options if scullery was the job they sought.
“It’s better than a bottle of brandy.”
He’d made a stab at lightness, but she wasn’t fooled. The heaviness of past misdeeds weighed the words down.
“If you wouldn’t mind too much,” he said, “could you walk into my natural line of sight, so I don’t give myself a neck strain?” He only sounded slightly annoyed. “I’m certain you’ll state your reason for being here.”
Even as her body urged her to obey his command couched in a request, she hesitated. To do as he asked, she would have to walk deeper into this room, steamy with heat and humidity and him,naked, thereby fully committing herself to this foolish path she’d set upon. Truly, she should turn tail and run.
Instead, her bare feet did as bid, sticky against damp tile. She inhaled deeply of air dense with sumptuous oils that had been added to the water.Birchwood…patchouli…him.
As she passed him to enter his line of sight, so help her, she darted a quick glance down. Blessedly—frustratingly—she saw naught below the water due to the blessed—frustrating—combination of steam and glare from flickering candlelight.
When she turned to face him, however, what she saw above the water was enough to steal her breath away. This wasn’t the first time she’d seen a man’s bare chest, or even this man’s bare chest, so what was this wobble in her knees?
It was quite simply the sum total of him: the day’s growth stubble of his dark beard, the muscles of his arms and shoulders, his tight, ridged stomach, the light sprinkling of dark hair on his chest that led down…down…down, the rest of him cut off by the waterline.
He cleared his throat, and her gaze lifted to meet his. Faint amusement shone out, but something else, too: assessment.
Right.
Gaze hooded, he took a slow appraisal of her nightdress, stopping right about where her nipples stood hard as cherry pits. Now, it was her turn to clear her throat. His eyes lifted to meet hers. She detected no apology in those depths, but rather a blazing desire that corresponded to her own.
“I’m waiting,” he said.
Her mouth went dry. Her body knew what it hoped he was waiting for. Best to ask for clarification. “Waiting for what?”
“For you to state your reason for invading my privacy. You’ve rather made a habit of it.”
Oh.That. “I, um, I came here to speak with you.”
“I gathered as much.” His tone was patient.
Somehow, though it was he who was naked and in the prone position, he possessed all the power in the room.
It was this implacable lust of hers. It made her weak and vulnerable to her desire. She could resent him for it.
“About tonight.” Her voice had gone to gravel. It could be from a lack of sleep, but she knew the truth. It was him. And his effect on her.
“Ah,” he exhaled and slipped deeper into the bath, his ridged stomach sliding from view.
Was he aware of how very desirable a man he was? She licked her bottom lip. A nervous tell that she tried to keep under control, but some moments it wouldn’t be contained. Like this one.
He followed the slide of her tongue, and an arrow of lust shot straight through her.
She stiffened her spine and squared her shoulders and attempted to summon an ounce of the outrage that led her here. “You simply cannot do that.”
He cocked his head, questioning. Was he deliberately showing off the strong line of his jaw?
“I cannot do what?” His voice emerged a velvet rumble.
