Aaron carried Louise toward the house, her wet dress dripping a trail across the terrace. She pressed her face against his shoulder, her breath coming in short gasps, he recognized as suppressed pain rather than cold.
Inside, servants scattered at his barked orders to prepare a hot bath. He took the stairs two at a time, heading not for her chamber but his own, which was closer and had a larger fire already burning.
He set her gently on the chair nearest the flames. “We need to get you out of these wet things.”
“It’s improper …” But her protest lacked conviction, especially as another violent shiver wracked her frame.
Aaron kneeled before her, his hands already working at the buttons of her boots. “Propriety be damned. You’re freezing.”
The boots came away with difficulty, soaked through and already stiffening. Louise gasped when he peeled away her ruined stockings, revealing her left ankle already beginning to swell.
“Let me see.” His hands cradled her foot with infinite gentleness, testing the joint’s movement.
Louise bit her lip, fingers gripping the chair arms. “It’s not broken.”
“No, but it’s certainly sprained.” Aaron’s fingers moved higher, checking for additional injury along her calf. The silk of her skin beneath his palms made his breath catch. “Does this hurt?”
She shook her head, apparently unable to speak as his hands continued their exploration under the guise of medical examination. He traced the curve of her calf, the delicate bone of her knee, his touch ostensibly clinical but charged with an undercurrent of desire.
“Aaron.” His name emerged as half plea, half warning.
He looked up to find her watching him with dilated pupils, her shivers now having nothing to do with cold. The wet fabric of her dress clung to every curve, and he could see her body’s response to his touch despite the layers.
A knock interrupted. “Your Grace? The bath you requested is ready.”
“Thank you. That will be all.”
He helped Louise stand, supporting most of her weight. “Can you walk?”
“With help.”
They made their way to his bathing chamber, where steam rose from the copper tub. Aaron turned his back while she struggled with her fastenings.
“I can’t reach …” Frustration colored her voice.
He turned to find her fumbling with the buttons down her back, the wet fabric refusing to cooperate with cold, stiffened fingers. Without speaking, he moved behind her, his fingers taking over the task.
Each button revealed more skin, flushed pink from the cold. Aaron forced himself to focus on the mechanical action rather than the growing expanse of her bare back, the delicate wings of her shoulder blades, the elegant line of her spine.
“There.” He stepped back, hands clenched at his sides. “I’ll wait outside.”
“Don’t.” The word stopped him at the door. Louise looked over her shoulder, vulnerability and want written across her features. “Please. Stay.”
He froze at her whispered plea.Stay.There was no command in it. No seduction. Only raw wanting, and it unraveled him far more effectively than desire ever could.
Aaron stepped back toward the tub, his breath unsteady despite the control he clung to. Louise’s skin shimmered in the candlelight, water beading along her shoulders as she sank a little deeper beneath the surface, as if offering him just enough to tempt and torment him in equal measure.
He kneeled beside her.
“Tell me if I go too far,” he murmured.
Her answering nod was soft and trusting.
Aaron dipped a cloth into the warm water, wringing it slowly, deliberately. He let the damp heat trail from her shoulder down the curve of her arm, watching each shiver, each flutter of breath. The sight of it, of her, made every pulse in his body pound, but he forced his touch to remain maddeningly gentle.
He bathed her in careful strokes, letting his fingers occasionally replace the cloth, his knuckles grazing sensitive places he pretended not to notice. Whenever her breath hitched, he slowed. Whenever she leaned subtly toward him, he allowed himself the smallest indulgence. His lips brushed her temple, the shell of her ear, the curve where her neck met her shoulder.
“You’re trembling,” he whispered, as though he were fighting for air.
