He had hurt her so badly.
And yet, now that he had returned, the same old Court she had always loved, it was growing more difficult by the moment to keep her protective walls from crumbling. He was an enemy marauder who had crossed her moat and crashed through her portcullis, and there was nothing to stop him now, save her surrender.
“I don’t know if I can lower myself into water that’s so deep,” she admitted, eyeing the tub’s glistening contents, swirling around his finely formed knees.
“You’ve never tried to do it with me before. I’ll hold you, Vivi.”
She shivered again, a chill passing over her now that she was away from the fire and still wearing her damp undergarments. Removing them would chase the chill. But where once she would have adored a deep, long soak in a tub, ever since Percy’s death and the nightmares that had tormented her, her panic had rendered it impossible.
“Deep breaths,” Court told her. “One step at a time. Take off your stockings and garters.”
Her stockings were muddied and wet, and her feet were hopelessly cold. Bending, she obeyed, rolling down her garters and damp stockings under his watchful eye. When she finished and stood to find his heated gaze on her, some of the dread faded.
Deep breaths, she told herself, repeating Court’s sage advice.You can control this. You can overcome this.
“You are strong, Vivi. So damned strong.” His voice intruded on her wildly vacillating thoughts.
The fear receded slightly. She focused on Court’s voice and realized she wanted to get into the tub. Wanted to fight her fear. To do so with him.
Before she lost her nerve, she caught her chemise in her hands and hauled it over her head, throwing the damp garment to the tiles at her feet. With scarcely any effort, she whisked her drawers away as well, and she was standing nude before her equally naked husband. It didn’t feel wrong, nor did she feel any embarrassment. This was Court, the boy she had loved from afar for so long, turned into a man. And she was a woman. And perhaps, just perhaps, it was time to break free of the past.
“Come to me,” he said.
One step. Then another. Closer, closer.
Her heart sped up, and her mouth was still dry and the fear threatened to intercede. But then she was there, within reach of his outstretched hand, and she placed hers in it. Their palms aligned. His eyes burned into hers.
He smiled, and it was the most tender smile she’d ever received from him. It was patient and gentle and partially hidden by his beard.
“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he promised.
And she believed him.
He helped her into the tub, the water hot at first, a shock to her cool skin.
She gasped, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her to him. Although they were both naked and he was clearly not unaffected by her nudity, there was nothing sensual about his embrace. He was comforting her. Mooring her.
Vivi pressed her ear to his chest above his heart and inhaled slowly, trying to keep the encroaching alarm away. Listening instead to the steady, rhythmic thumps of Court’s heart. Reminding herself that the water in which they stood wasn’t the vast sea that had claimed her brother. Rather, it was nothing more than a vessel. One she had chosen herself even as she had known she was too fearful to use it properly.
But the fear was ebbing now.
Court moved his hands up and down her spine slowly as he kissed her crown. “There you are, my brave and beautiful wife. You’ve made it halfway.”
His praise had her spine stiffening, for it was a reminder that he intended for them to become immersed in the bathwater together, something she hadn’t done since Percy’s drowning.
“I’m not sure I can make it the rest of the way,” she admitted.
His hand continued its slow, comforting caress up and down her back.
“Do you remember when you climbed your first tree?” he asked, his voice rumbling beneath her ear.
She inhaled his scent, soap and Court, holding him tightly as she forced her mind back to that long-ago day. “I was afraid I would fall.”
She had lingered at the base of the ancient oak for so long, staring up at the leafy boughs above and wishing herself amongst them. But she hadn’t the strength to haul herself onto the lowest branch, weighed down by her heavy skirts.
“And who was there to tell you that you wouldn’t?” Court asked.
“You.”
