Winning Maggie back would require far more tact and controlthan that. If he even could win her back. The unwanted thought struck him likea lead ball to the gut. He’d meant what he said. He couldn’t lose her. Hehadn’t managed to make sense of much in the time he’d been gone other than torealize that he couldn’t be without her. He needed her smile, her silliness,her passion, her poetry, and every other dizzying American bit of her.
He crossed the chamber and opened the door keeping him fromher, taking care to be as quiet as possible. The tub was large and deep,dominating the small tiled room. Her back was to him, her hair not unbound ashe had imagined but piled high atop her head. He took in the graceful sweep ofher neck and shoulders. Her bare arms were stretched over the lip of the tub oneither side of her. In the silence, he recognized the hushed sound of herbreathing.
She was asleep. Simon crossed the threshold, thinkingperhaps it was a boon. After all, if he took her by surprise, she wouldn’t havethe chance to throw her soap at his head. When he reached the tub, he sank tohis knees behind her. The delicious, floral scent of her bathwater reached him.Roses. He pressed his face into her hair, inhaling. He’d never get tired of hersweet scent. Unable to stop himself, he ran his palms over her bare shoulders,down her arms, stopping when he reached her hands. He tangled his fingers inhers as he kissed her ear. No one had ever made him feel as passionately asMaggie did.
No one.
She shifted suddenly, jolted awake by the contact, andturned to face him. Water sloshed over the side of the tub, some of it landingon his boots, but he didn’t care. The expression on her face flitted fromfrightened to taken aback.
“Simon?” She sounded breathless as she eyed him withundisguised trepidation. “Where is Osborn? What are you doing in here?”
He almost smiled at her quick round of questions. The ladywas not immune, that much was apparent. Good. His gaze traveled hungrily overher face, appreciating the undeniable beauty she possessed. She was rare, hisMaggie, like a wildflower bright and defiant amongst the weeds.
“That’s rather a lot of questions,” he remarked slowly,wanting to touch her again but not wishing to make her retreat any farther thanshe’d already gone, to the opposite end of the tub.
“It’s only two,” she said, licking her luscious lips in herobvious nervousness.
“Three,” he corrected, ignoring his knees as they began toache from remaining so long upon the hard floor.
Her brows snapped together. “Did you come here to quibbleover arithmetic?”
Ever stubborn, his Maggie. “Of course not.”
“Then perhaps you’d care to answer one of my threequestions,” she rejoined.
And ever the quick wit, even nude and gorgeous, attemptingto shield her breasts from his gaze. Too late. He’d already caught amouthwatering glimpse of her pretty nipples. “I came here to ask you if you’dlike to accompany me on a ride,” he said honestly. “But when I arrived, youwere at your bath.”
“I haven’t any idea why Osborn would allow you in here.” Hervibrant eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What have you done with her?”
He would have smiled were the tension between them not sovery deep. “I’ve dismissed her.”
“You had no right to do so. I still have need of herassistance.” Twin patches of red marred her cheeks as her ire grew.
“I’ll assist you,” he said helpfully. “I shall do a mostthorough job of applying soap to your breasts.”
She stared. “Are you making a jest?”
Well, Christ, he supposed he was. Fancy that. Being back inher presence did things to him. Warmed his cold heart. Made him feel as if heweren’t so unbearably alone in this life of his. He cleared his throat,wondering if he’d truly gone mad in the wake of Eleanor’s death or if it wassimply that Maggie somehow cast aside everything he’d ever thought he’d knownabout himself. Perhaps a bit of both, he decided.
What the devil had she said? He was having difficultyfocusing with her breasts barely shielded by her arms and her luscious legsvisible beneath the water. Ah, yes. “I would be happy to help you,” he offeredagain.
“That’s not necessary,” she denied quickly. “I can do formyself.”
She didn’t want him to touch her, he realized. He hoped thatit was because she couldn’t trust herself and not because she despised him. Heknew he had never treated her with the respect and consideration she deserved.He had hurt her too many times to hope she could forgive him, but he was aselfish bastard and he was willing to try to earn her forgiveness anyway.
“Nonsense,” he countered. “Tell me what assistance you need,and I shall but give it.”
She pursed her lips together, looking as if she smelledsomething rotten in the chamber. “I need you to leave.”
Certainly not the answer he’d been seeking. He’d had enoughof the peculiar game they played. He stood, deciding to press his advantageafter all, and then walked to the opposite end of the tub. She stared up at himwith wide eyes, but didn’t slide away from him immediately as he’d thought shemight. A small victory. He sank to his knees so that they were once more gazeto gaze. She was very near to him, close enough to kiss.
“I’m not leaving,” he said at last. “It would seem I’ve donerather enough of that.”
“Yes,” she agreed softly, “you have.”
If he’d felt like a bastard before, he felt like a criminalnow. He needed to explain to her, if he could. He didn’t entirely understandhimself, but he couldn’t bear for her to think the awful muddle he’d created ofhis life was in any way her fault. “It was never because of you.”
She studied him in that way she had, seeing straight throughhim. “Thank you for admitting that.”
