“Get in now,” she said, offering him a hand to balance himself as he did so. “That’s enough seriousness for the moment, I think.”
He pursed his lips, but didn’t argue. Instead, he sank beneath the hot water with a shuddering sigh and his eyes fluttered shut with his head rested back on the tub edge. She let out a sigh of her own. The subject had passed. At least for now.
And if she was careful, they would never have to broach the topic again.
Lucas had no idea how long he had been reclining in the tub. Long enough that the water was beginning to bleed out some of its heat. He had been seduced by the bath. By the warmth that seeped into his body, by the sweet, soft fragrance of the herbs Diana had added, by the way his muscles had begun to relax and the pain that was his constant companion eased.
And yet he wasn’t fully comfortable. His mind still turned, running over what she had confessed about the man who took her innocence. She had been very honest about a remarkably painful subject. To have been seduced and discarded by a friend of her father, another spy…it brought up an anger in his chest that was far more powerful than it should be.
And questions. It brought up questions. He had known George Oakford his entire life as a spy. He’d never known the surgeon to work a case, nor to assist in one. That day Lucas had been injured had been an aberration, a moment of opportunity when he needed backup and Diana’s father had been there.
Oh, he’d talked to the man about thorny problems, of course. Oakford had a mind like a steel trap and was quick to offer advice or solutions. But he could not picture a scenario where he would have actually gone to Oakford’s home, where he would partner with him in a case. The idea seemed…off.
“Here,” Diana said, her soft voice breaking through his thoughts.
He opened his eyes and took the soap she now held out toward him. “Ready for me to be finished, are you?”
She smiled. “The water is cooling and you should wash before we get you out. Sitting in the cold water will be no good for your injuries.”
He nodded and began to wash himself. He was keenly aware of her watching him as she retook her chair a few feet away. Watching him with erotic interest that set his body on edge in a most pleasant way.
Wanting her was easy. Knowing her? That was another story. Her confession had brought him a bit closer, of course, but he still felt her withholding. There was more to her past. More to the man who had hurt her.
But right now wasn’t the time to push. Perhaps it never would be. After all, he wasn’t here to get to know this fascinating woman. He wasn’t going to be with her long. She said it over and over—they both knew what this was. An affair, meant for pleasure.
Nothing more.
“Your father was a good man,” he said.
She shifted in her seat and her eyes darted away with discomfort at the intimacy of that statement. “Yes,” she said at last. “He was that.”
“He spoke of you sometimes,” he continued, and then questioned himself on why. Didn’t this go against what he’d just decided with himself? That this was a temporary affair that did not require any deeper knowledge or connection?
She bent her head farther. “Did he?”
He could not read her tone, didn’t know if that information he’d provided hurt her or helped her, was a surprise or something that inspired anger.
“Yes,” he continued, despite all the things telling him to stop. “He always said how clever you were. How proud he was of you.”
To his surprise, her expression grew suddenly harder. Slowly, she stood up and paced away, her hands clenched at her sides. “Yes,” she said through gritted teeth. “I know all about how he valued myusefulness.”
He shook his head, sitting up in the tub and setting the soap on the edge. “It was more than that, Diana,” he breathed.
She pivoted, and now she speared him with a look. “He talked about you, too,” she said, clearly trying to change the subject. “The Undercover Duke, he called you, though I never knew your real name. He teased about it and told me you were a member of a very prestigious duke club, but that somehow you were still good at what you did.”
Lucas turned his face. His club. He tried so hard not to think about that. About them. His friends. The ones he hadn’t talked to since…well,since…that was all. “They are the best of men,” he said softly.
She tilted her head, and there was a moment of silence before she said, “Well, my father considered you a…a…”
He looked at her, wondering why she struggled to find a word that was so simple. “A friend?” he suggested.
She nodded. “Yes, that, of course. But it was more than that. He made it very clear he saw you as a—a son, I think. Sometimes I was actually rather jealous of your bond with him.”
“A son,” Lucas repeated in shock. “That means a great deal to me.”
He said no more, he couldn’t. But that didn’t stop Diana. She stepped forward, her bright green gaze focused on him. Reading him as only she seemed capable of doing. As always, it made him uncomfortable because it felt so damned vulnerable.
“What is it?” she asked.
