“Yes, but—”
“Then this water is clean enough for me.” He struggled to pull off his boots.
Theodosia heard them hit the floor and decided that since Roman was behind the screen, she would take the opportunity to change into her nightgown. “Roman, why did you treat Melvin Priestly the way you did?” she asked while undressing.
Because I don’t want so much as one of his moustache hairs getting anywhere near you,he answered silently.
“Roman?”
He tugged off his stockings, then removed his gunbelt and laid it over the top of the screen.
“Roman, it was painfully obvious that you did not care for Melvin,” Theodosia declared, withdrawing her nightrail from a drawer in the bureau. “I, however, thought him a very proper and intelligent gentleman, and I feel certain that after breakfast tomorrow you will be of the same mind.”
He took off his pants.
“Roman, are you listening to me?”
With one smooth motion he tossed his pants over the screen.
They landed at Theodosia’s feet just as she slipped into her nightgown. Unable to resist the temptation, she picked the pants up.
They were still warm with the heat of Roman’s body. She held them close to her breasts, and the heat swirled into her. Desire flared to life so quickly, she gasped.
Roman heard the small sound and smiled. “Sure you don’t want to join me, Theodosia?” he asked, stepping into the tub. “You probably got some dust on you while we ate in that meadow.” He lowered himself into the cool water and leaned back against the tub.
She heard him splashing.Roman was naked.“Naked,” she whispered.
“What was that you said?” Roman called out.Naked.That’s what she’d said. Chuckling softly, he grabbed the bar of soap and quickly ran it over his body. “Soap up the old arms, Roman,” he pretended to talk to himself. “Yeah, that’s it. Over the shoulders, down the chest, and around the belly. Stand,” he continued, and stood. “Now for the legs. One leg, two legs. Up the thighs…and…right in between them. Ah, feels good. Feels damned good.”
Theodosia clutched his pants so tightly that her arms trembled. She couldn’t see Roman, but just the thought of where his hands were…the very idea that he was touching himself… holding himself… feeling himself…
“Hey, Theodosia!”
What?she answered, then frowned when she realized she hadn’t spoken the word aloud. “What?”
“You know when I made you rest for those ten days before we traveled to Red Wolf? Well, I didn’t tell you this, but sometimes at night when you were asleep, I read that sex-treat book of yours. Guess what that Tibetan guy called a certain part of the male anatomy?”
Weak with desire, Theodosia barely made it to the chair across the room.
“He called it a ‘seeking manroot’!” Roman continued merrily. “‘A thrusting sword of passion,’ which is, of course, to be sheathed by the ‘wet warm velvet of the woman’s femininity.’ Oh, and get this one—‘a flaming spike with which to gently impale the quivering virgin’!”
Theodosia listened as his deep rich laughter filled the room. She realized he thought the Tibetan scholar’s descriptions ridiculous, butshefound them so erotic that she began squirming in her chair.
“I’m getting out now,” Roman said. “But don’t worry. I’ll cover up my throbbing masculinity with a towel.” He rinsed the soap from his body, stepped out of the tub, and wrapped a towel around his waist.
Theodosia nearly fell out of her chair when he walked out from behind the screen. Lampshine shot through his long black hair like bolts of lightning through a midnight sky, and trickles of water glistened on his tanned skin, highlighting swells of muscle that bulged and stretched as he sauntered toward her.
She’d never seen his bare legs before, but she saw every inch of them now, for the towel barely covered his sex. Indeed, as he moved she caught glimpses of the dark shadows between his thick, wet thighs.
“You look a little warm, Theodosia,” Roman murmured as he stopped before her. Reaching out, he cupped her cheek and slid his fingers over her temple and around the curve of her ear. “Do you want me to open the window?”
“I will.” She jumped from the chair as if flames had suddenly burst from its seat. Her quick action brought her into direct contact with Roman’s body, and as she brushed against him, she felt something slide down her legs and land on the tips of her shoes.
There was only one thing she could think of that could have fallen.
“My towel fell off,” Roman announced, thoroughly enjoying the blend of desire and apprehension he saw brimming in her huge whiskey eyes.
Theodosia kept her gaze centered on his lopsided grin. “Put it back on,” she whispered.
