“I do,” he acknowledged. Her lashes swept her cheeks. He emitted a sound of impatience. “I haven’t been a married man that long, you know.”
Her lashes fell again. He set his knuckles beneath her chin, lifting it, forcing her eyes to fall upon his once again. “I stabled the horses, I returned here. I’m going to go downstairs and ask Mrs. Smith-Soames to awaken us at the crack of dawn tomorrowmorning. When I come back, I really would like not so much a proper thank-you but a bloody truce if nothing else.”
“And if…”
“And if what?”
“If I’m not obliging?” she whispered.
He smiled. “That remains to be seen, doesn’t it?”
He turned and strode away, leaving Skylar to stare after him. She bit into her lower lip, watching the door close in his wake.
For several seconds she stood very still. Then she suddenly began to kick off her boots, hopping about as she tugged off pantalettes and hose. She cast off her clothing, paused, folded it neatly. She didn’t want it to appear that she had been panicked or rushed. She wanted him to think that the truce she had decided to grant him had been a careful decision.
Not a mad scurry of uncertainty!
She piled her hair on top of her head, securing it in a knot. Then she plunged into the tub with a washcloth and the lavender soap. She heard the door open and made a careful display of raising one of her legs and slowly, sensuously washing it.
To her amazement, she suddenly heard a very feminine clearing of the throat. She dropped her leg back into the water and turned around to stare at the young maid who had come back into the room carrying a tray.
The girl was blushing slightly. “I’m so sorry, Lady Douglas. Lord Douglas suggested I bring up a tray now in case you two get hungry later. I knocked, but you didn’t hear me. I thought perhaps you had left the room as well. I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”
“You—didn’t interrupt me,” Skylar murmured, feeling very foolish. The girl scurried into the room, set the tray on a table, and scurried out.
So much for attempting to become something of a siren, Skylar thought. Maybe he had gone back across the way. To the half-naked, bosomy brunette.
“Truce?”
Her eyes flew open. Hawk was back.
He smiled, hunkering down beside her.
“I like you wet, you know,” he told her. “It brings back fond memories of our first meeting. Is this a truce?” he demanded.
She nodded, then suddenly stretched out her wet arms, wrapping them around him. “I’m taking you at face value,” she said quickly, earnestly. Then she felt the urge to back away from what she was beginning.
“Yes?”
“I’m—believing what you say to me.” There could be no backing away now.
He nodded. “Yes?” There was the slightest trace of wry amusement in his voice.
“I just…I just want you to believe in me, too.”
He nodded. He picked her up, wet and dripping, held her close to him, heedless of the soaking he was getting from her.
“Hawk?” she murmured insistently.
“I slay all monsters,” he said.
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
“No matter what they appear to be?”
“What do you mean?”
