He grinned. That was his sister’s way of giving in. “Yihui? Are you ready?”
“I am,” she said. The voice was directly before him, the words so sweetly spoken that his entire body tightened at the sound.
He stepped toward her, his hands already outstretched.
Emmaline spoke from his right. “She’s sitting on the bed. Careful of her feet.”
“You’ll need to guide me.”
“I am here,” Yihui said, and he felt her small hand grip his wrist, gently urging him closer.
He found her.
She wore a silk robe, thin enough that he could feel the shift of her bones, the expansion and contraction of her ribs, and the solid control of her muscles. She moved her hand up his arm, gripping him as he knelt before her. His right arm settled behind her back. She was forced to let go of his arm then and instead, pull herself up to wrap an arm around his shoulders.
She was so slight that he could support her easily. Even better, she had strength in her arm as she lifted herself against him, and he felt the ripple of her back muscles. More delightful was the press of her breasts against him.
The best came to his left hand as he found her hip, then slid down her thigh to the bend in her knee. She was so compact compared to him. He often felt like his arms and legs were awkward things too long to manage smoothly. She, however, was a shifting bundle of energy. It was only her feet that kept her from running circles around everyone.
He slid his hand under her knees and straightened up. As she settled, he was able to wrap his right hand along her thigh while erotic images flooded his mind.
“This way,” his sister said, her voice an irritating distraction.
“You’ll have to guide me better than that,” he said as he twisted his body to lead with Yihui’s feet. He didn’t want to accidentally bang them on the doorframe.
“Take three steps forward,” Emmaline directed, though he probably could have managed it on his own. But it allowed him to focus on Yihui and how she felt against him as he walked down the hall.
Once in his room, he moved even faster. He knew the proportions of his bedroom and exactly where the tub had been placed.
“I’m going to set you down now.”
“I cannot take weight on my feet,” Yihui murmured against him. “Eventually I will walk on my heels, but for now, you must set me down in the water.”
“Your robe will get wet,” he said. “But I am sure we can find you another.”
She nodded against his shoulder as he began to squat down. It was awkward for him, and he was excruciatingly aware of her injury, but he finally managed it.
He hadn’t thought about how it would wet his own clothing. He would have to change his shirt now, but that was nothing compared to the feel of her skin as he withdrew from the water.Silky smooth, beautifully strong, and the most perfect size for a woman.
“Thank you, Max,” she whispered just as he pulled his hands away.
Lust slammed through him at her hoarse whisper. He had been aroused before, but now there was a need in him that pounded through him. He was not a man to be overcome by lusts. And yet her modest whisper had him longing to banish everyone else from his room.
But that was wrong. In truth, it was rather depraved.
Or so he told himself as he forced himself back. “I’ll wait…um…” He cleared his throat. “Notify me when all is done. I’ll—”
“Your shirt is wet,” Yihui said.
What? Oh yes. His shirtsleeves were dripping on the floor. “Right. Um, I’ll have a maid set up the divider,” he said as he backed toward his bed. “I’ll change on this side.”
The two of them in dishabille and only a thin paper screen between them. As fantasies went, it was rather paltry, and yet his body was taut with hunger and nothing—not even his sister—could get him to leave now.
Chapter Sixteen
White men smelleddifferent than Chinese. They ate different foods, they bathed with different soaps, and they often shaved off their beards. Yihui had hated the scent of them on the boat, but the sailors were coarse men who lived rough. Thankfully, the sun and wind had eased the shock of such unfamiliar smells, and in time she had come to accept the different scents.
Then Max carried her into his bath. He had been fresh from his own toilette and so she knew the scent of him as it mixed with orange flower and rosemary.
