When I was confident there was no one inside my house but my servants on the far side, I carried Lela into my bath chamber and set her down on the ledge.
“Wait here.”
I then stalked back outside into the rain and flew to the small veranda where servants usually fed the fire that burned beneath my bath chamber and heated the pool. Puffing my chest with dragon fire, I blew a steady flame into the furnace. The flames immediately licked up around the kindling and wood, burning fast and hot.
Once back inside the bath chamber, I shook off the dragon and shifted back into my human form, even while the beast protested with a growl. Lela watched me with interest, no longer quivering.
The rain had soaked her body nearly clean of the blood of the men she’d killed. I grunted with satisfaction, that she’d murdered those who’d come for her, so proud of her using her powerful gift.
I stepped down into the water, slowly beginning to warm from the furnace. Typically, I didn’t bother to heat the water. As a Sapphirus,I was comfortable in even the coldest depths. But I needed to warm Lela, needed to comfort her any way I could.
“May I wash you?” I asked gently as I stepped in front of her where she sat on the edge.
“I would like that,” she answered, her voice steady and sure. The thunder still echoed outside, the storm turning day into night.
She wore a cream-colored dress that was a second skin, clinging to her breasts, belly, and thighs. I noted the black dragon belt-like embroidery around the middle. I could imagine Fausta was dressing her for the escape when she had uninvited visitors.
Lela lifted her arms so I could get the dress over her head. By the time I gripped her around the waist and gently lifted her down into the water, steam was rising from the surface.
She let out a soft moan and closed her eyes as she lowered beneath the water up to her neck. The tightness in my chest eased, but I guided her to sit on a lower step that kept most of her body immersed beneath the surface.
Lifting the bottle of lavender oil, I poured it onto a soft rag, wading to her right side. I took her hand and lifted her arm. Taking my time, I held her hand and rubbed the rag up and down both sides of her arm and right shoulder, removing any excess of blood.
“You know, after I’m in battle in half-skin, I always get this sort of electric buzz from the magic of transformation, from using my dragon’s strength and abilities. Julian used to call it being blood-drunk because we always felt it after combat. But it was more like being intoxicated by dragon magic.”
When I lowered her right arm into the water, she immediately lifted her left. I took it without a word and repeated the same massaging and washing treatment. Then moved to sit on the step behind her, the water lapping at my waist. I set the rag on the edge of the bath.
“The look in your eyes, it reminds me of that.”
She turned her head to look up at me, the confidence in her gaze a drug all its own. “I suppose I am blood-drunk. More so than you and your warriors might be.”
I smiled. “Move one more step down and lean your head back.”
She eased down onto the next step, keeping her elbows on the stone for balance. Then she tipped her head backward until I cradled it in my hands, her long black hair fanning wide in the water.
She stared up at me with the most vulnerable and trusting expression I’d ever seen. It shot me through the heart like one of Diana’s arrows, and I wondered if the gods knew what torture it was to gift me with such a stunning, powerful woman that I might have for the moment, but who I could not keep.
Using one hand to cradle the back of her neck and head, I reached for the bottle of lavender and poured it over her hair. Her body floated straight in the steamy water, oil glistening along its surface and soaking her pale skin and feminine curves. She was more divine than Juno herself, a queenly beauty.
My queen.
With both hands, I massaged the oil into her hair and scalp. I used my hand to cup water and wash the oil away at the top of her head. She kept her eyes closed, her body relaxed.
“Sit up,” I said softly.
She obeyed, yet again satisfying the possessive beast that ruled me. I washed the rest of her hair with the lavender oil and draped it over one shoulder to hang down her chest. I then oiled her back, massaging softly along the blades of her shoulders, where wings might project if she were a dragon.
Taking my time, I massaged down the channel of her spine and her flared hips, feeling the tension easing in her body with each soft touch. Not just her tension, but also my own.
Exhaling a heavy sigh, I pressed my forehead to the back of her head, my hands cupping her delicate shoulders.
“I was afraid,” I confessed, “afraid they’d taken you.”
She let out her own deep sigh. “They tried.”
We were both quiet. I let her go and turned to step out, but she caught me by the wrist. I was thigh-deep on the lower step. She stood in the bath, her breasts shimmering above the water.
“I was afraid I’d never see you again.”
