She left the room again. She knew that would give him the wrong impression. He’d think one of the men was going to wash him when he realized he couldn’t do it himself with his hands tied behind his back.
She didn’t return until she heard him shouting. He’d been left alone, sitting in the tub, hands and feet tied. She raised a brow at him when she entered.
“How the hell am I supposed to get clean like this?” he demanded.
She tsked to make it sound as if this wasn’t the plan. “Did the men get squeamish? Couldn’t bring themselves to touch you so intimately to get you clean?”
“How should I know?” he grumbled. “I didn’t ask.”
She kept her eyes off his bare chest as she approached the tub. This wasn’t going to work if she ended up getting mesmerized by his magnificent body.
“All right, this will only take a few minutes, so no maidenly airs, if you please.”
“You’re going to wash me?” he asked incredulously.
“I don’t see anyone else here,” she said, and then stepped behind him. But first she removed her shirt so it wouldn’t get wet—and made sure he saw her.
She heard a choking sound. “Gabby, don’t—”
“What? Nowyou’regoing to get squeamish?”
She was enjoying the ploy immensely. She should have thought of this sooner. Able to touch him now as much as she wanted with the pretense of helping him, she was going to drive him mad with desire.
She lathered her hands. She wanted no cloth between her skin and his. And then slowly, sensually, she began to rub his body, over his shoulders, down the corded muscles on his arms, which were very taut, pulled behind his back. She devoted a long while to his back, slipping her fingers under his arms, near his buttocks. He did try to grab her with his fingers, but she was slippery now and merely smiled to herself.
Carefully she sloshed some water on his head, then built up a lather in his hair. He groaned with pleasure. She couldn’t help but smile in satisfaction as she rubbed her fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp, his temples. She didn’t want to stop, but there was a time limit. She’d told Richard to return precisely twenty minutes later. Whether she finished washing Drew by then or not, that would be the end of it. And she’d already lost track of the time, she was so engrossed in what she was doing.
She rinsed his hair. And now, before she lost her nerve, she proceeded to wash his chest. She didn’t come around to the front of the tub to do it. She wasn’t going to let him accuse her later of deliberately enticing him by standing in front of him without her shirt on. But she had to lean against his back in order to reach his chest. He groaned as her breasts pressed against his back and, her hand slid over his chest. He turned his head toward her, trying to reach her lips with his. He couldn’t do it, not without her help.
“Kiss me, Gabby. You know you want to.”
She drew in her breath. She did. Oh, God, she did. She looked down at his lips as she ran her hand over his muscular chest and then moved it lower. She heard him inhale sharply and was even leaning closer to him when the three raps sounded at the door, warning her she had about thirty seconds to get her composure back.
She toweled herself quickly, slipped her shirt back on, and practically ran out of there. And that would be the last time she attempted anything so foolish. While it had accomplished what she’d hoped, to wildly inflame him, she just couldn’t get that close to him, touch him like that, without having that same spark burn her.
•••
She dreamed about him often, nearly every night. She wasn’t even surprised that she did, since he filled so many of her thoughts during the day. But none of those dreams were as arousing as the one she was having tonight.
They were lying in bed, in the narrow bed in her cabin. He uttered the phrase, “Time to get naked, wench,” and she felt like laughing because it was just a dream and she could do anything she liked in a dream. But it was a potent dream. He was lying on top of her and kissing her. He pulled her nightgown off. She thought he might be naked as well because she felt such heat and such pleasurable new sensations between her thighs with him lying on top of her, but she wasn’t going to open her eyes to check. She was afraid she might wake up if she did.
She didn’t want to wake up, not yet. Before she did, she wanted to learn as much about his lovemaking as he’d teach her, which was silly, because she couldn’t dream about something she didn’t already know. So it must be her wishing that made him so tender when he caressed her, running his hands up and down her body. And she did have full knowledge of his kiss. It was the same in her dream as she remembered it, the heady taste of him, his tongue thrusting boldly into her mouth in a most passionate manner.
She must have forgotten some of the things he’d promised to do to her, because not all of his actions now matched his taunts. She was naked already; he hadn’t slowly removed her clothes as he’d said he would do. He’d said she would kiss him back, though, and she was. He’d said she wouldn’t be able to help herself and she didn’t even want to try. He’d said she would hold him tight, even cling to him, tight enough to feel his desire pressing against her, and oh my, yes, that part had been incorporated into her dream.
But there was so much more than what she remembered from his taunts, because her dream was letting him kiss and touch her everywhere, along her neck, over her shoulders—her breasts. His mouth devoted a great deal of time to that responsive area of her chest, finding out everything he’d said he wanted to know about her breasts. She never could have imagined how scorching his lips would feel, though, or the thrilling excitement that raced through her entire body. He’d said he was going to drive her mad with desire and it was quite possible that he was. No, that was supposed to be while he removed her clothes—oh, the order didn’t matter! She was enjoying herself too much to mind that she wasn’t getting it right, everything he’d said he would do to her.
He licked at her nipples. They’d tingled before just from his words and they did again. He licked at her belly button. He licked between her legs. Oh my God, so much pleasure. He really was going to drive her mad—no, wait, where the deuce did that come from? Her knowledge of lovemaking was broad, but it didn’t include that!
She started to wake up, to struggle out of the dream, but then he was kissing her mouth again, soothing her confusion. And she remembered, it was just a dream, just a dream. He was chained in another room, he couldn’t possibly be here in her bed with her.
That thought went straightaway when the pain arrived. So did all semblance of sleep and nice dreams. She was staring up at Drew Anderson in the soft glow of lantern light and realizing that he’d done it again.
He’d ruined her, literally this time. She couldn’t imagine how he’d managed to escape, but he was definitely in her bed, lying on top of her, both of them buck naked, and he’d just stolen her virginity.
“My God, what have you done?” she said as she pushed against him. “How did you—”
“Shh, I just want to pleasure you.”
