“I have to make up for lost time.” He tilted his head and gave her a smile that made her heart skip a beat. “Merry Christmas, Genie love.”
“Merry Christmas.” She leaned down and kissed his cheek. “Though I feel a bit guilty. I haven’t prepared a present for you.”
He rose to his feet and drew her into his embrace. “You’re the only present I need.”
Heat bloomed in her cheeks. “Aren’t you the charmer?”
“I’m serious. I never expected to spend another Christmas with you.”
“Especially a carnal Christmas.” The words slipped out before she could stop them, and she buried her face in his chest. Laughter rumbled beneath her cheek, and then he eased her back.
“Let’s start with your other presents first, shall we?”
“Right. Food.”
He used a wooden spoon to point to various pots. “We’ll start you on this bone broth. If your stomach handles it, we’ll try one of these pan biscuits with an egg on top. Or…perhaps you’d prefer this barley and carrot soup? I could also make flapjacks?—”
“You’re the absolute sweetest,” she interrupted.
“I assure you it’s purely out of self-interest. I am not immune to the whiskey from last night, either.”
She patted his forearm. “Whatever you say. Now feed me.”
“Once you’re dressed properly.”
“A nightgown and dressing robe is perfectly acceptable attire to drink bone broth!”
A mischievous gleam appeared in his eye. “Not for this meal, it isn’t. Come with me.”
Without waiting for her reply, he lifted two buckets of water she hadn’t noticed warming on the hearth and disappeared behind her staging screen in the corner of the cabin. She followed, shaking her head at his vagueness. Then she rounded the screen and gasped.
While she slept, Tommy had staged a scene straight out of her dreams. The oval, wooden tub with copper handles had been moved from its cramped position against the wall and was now the focal point of the nook. A flat slab of wood was laid across both rims, the perfect place to rest a mug or a book. Beside the tub, he’d positioned a short box. Atop it lay her bar of vanilla and cinnamon soap, comb, and the book she’d begun reading the night before.
Her heart thudded in time to the rhythmic cascade of water filling the half-full tub. She wasn’t prepared for the way the simple act made Tommy’s forearms flex, nor the way the fabric of his shirt stretched over his back. Time slowed, and her pulse thrummed wildly. She watched dumbly as he set the buckets down, lit a half dozen tapered candles, and then methodically set about sprinkling dried sprigs of lavender and buds of chamomile taken from her stash of tea into the steamy bath water.
She’d always wondered what it felt like to be in danger of swooning.
“There we are.” Tommy rubbed his hands together with satisfaction. “Get in while the water’s hot.”
She didn’t think, only acted. Holding Tommy’s gaze, she tugged the robe open and let it fall to the floor in a heap. When her fingers began to undo the nightgown buttons at her throat, Tommy inhaled sharply. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides as if he didn’t quite know what to do with them, but he didn’t move. His heated attention emboldened her, made her want to expand the boundaries of her existence. She was no stranger to nudity, her own or others’. As an artist, she had posed before a crowd and delighted in the knowledge that her body was art.
But now, with Tommy, it would not be about art. It would be about lust, desire, need. Baring her body to him was akin to baring her soul. In all her life, she had never been more eager. She grasped two fistfuls of flannel and drew the gown over her head. Summoning her courage, she lifted her chin to see Tommy’s reaction.
He stared at her like a starving man before a feast. His nostrils flared as his gaze touched her collarbones, her breasts, her belly. He paused at the juncture of her thighs, and his cock strained against the front of his trousers.
“You’re so lovely. So beautiful. So perfect.”
The hoarse rasp in his voice sent a shiver straight to her throbbing core. To be desired thusly was a new sensation, one to be savored and dissected at a later time. For now, she simply wanted to act.
She took two steps toward the tub and lifted a hand. Tommy was at her side in an instant, and she shivered anew at his eagerness. He cupped her hand and guided her into the bath. She sank into the warm, healing water with a sigh of contentment. It wasn’t as large as the tub back home, but she didn’t care that her knees rose above the surface. Tommy had prepared it for her; it was perfect.
Tommy disappeared from view, only to return a moment later carrying a plate and a mug. He set the plate, holding a flaky pan biscuit, on the wooden board before her, and pressed the mug into her hand. “Drink.”
She sipped, not surprised in the least to find a delicious, nurturing broth. Similarly, each morsel of the buttery biscuit—such a deceptively simple treat—quelled the rumbling in her hollow belly. After the last bite, Tommy removed the dishes and slab of wood. She leaned her head back against the tub and closed her eyes. The heat enveloped her body, rejuvenating both her body and mind. The scent of lavender and chamomile tickled her nostrils and banished the final vestiges of her headache.
At last, she opened her eyes to find Tommy watching her. “How is it?” he asked softly.
“Everything is wonderful.” She bit her lip, then admitted, “Much better than spending Christmas by myself.”
