He sent away the footman who tried to serve as valet as soon as he washed his upper body. He could not bear how the young man shook in his presence, but he would not have wanted him around even if the youth were a citadel of stability.
Once alone, he removed his trousers to finish washing. When he moved the cloth on his leg, his hand felt the puckered skin even if he could not see it. He barely thought about it anymore, but every day there was this reminder. His own valet had nursed him through it all, and presumably was accustomed to it too. When he traveled, however, the servants he might use almost always paused long and hard upon seeing it.
Finished, he threw on his banyan and called the young man in to take away the water and towels. Finally alone, he left the dressing room.
A figure rose up next to the fireplace, startling him.
Davina. How long had she been sitting in that chair, watching the embers?
Enough light found her to show her hair tucked behind her ears and the determination in her eyes. Also that she wore a nightdress and a simple shawl. Perhaps she intended another row.
She walked toward him. Her luminous skin and bright eyes entranced him.
His body knew why she had come before his mind did. The hunger he had barely conquered these last weeks grabbed his essence and shredded his control in a blink. There would be no row tonight unless he insulted her again.
She stopped a mere arm span away.
“You should—” he began.
“I should what?”
You should leave at once.
“Don’t tell me to leave. It took all my courage to come here.”
His idiotic decency made a last stand. “Are you sure you know what this means to you? To your future?”
She nodded.
“Then you should remove that wrap and dress so I can see all of you.”
She smiled shyly, but she let the shawl drop to the floor. She fussed with the buttons and ribbons on the nightdress.
He took the step to her. “I will help.” So many buttons. Impatience battled the charm he felt at how she let him work at them, as if she truly needed help.
The fabric parted down her front inch by inch. She watched, then looked up at him. With more bravery than he expected, she stepped back and allowed the dress to fall off her shoulders and down her arms. It pooled at her feet. She made no effort to cover herself with her hands or arms. She displayed no embarrassment.
“Now you,” she said with an impish smile. “Fair is fair.”
“You are supposed to be shy and nervous, not demand I disrobe.”
“You forget how many naked men I have seen.”
He hadn’t forgotten as such. He had never even thought about it. Of course, when she had accompanied her father, some of the sick had been men.
He cast off the banyan. She gave him a good look. Head to toe. He half-expected her to command he turn so she could examine him from the side.
Enough of this. He pulled her into his arms.
He held her there, with her body against his, skin to skin, while desire pounded through him like a hammer in his blood. He found one thread of sense remaining, and tied his mind to it. For all her courage, she was inexperienced. This could not be a ravishment. He would restrain his impulses.
Secure that he had found the control to hold true to that little vow, he turned up her head and kissed her. With the first touch of her lips, all hell let loose inside him.
* * *
A whirlwind. That was what he had dragged her into. Immediately and thoroughly. She could not have kept her balance even if she wanted to.
She had not known what to expect, but she had not anticipated this all-encompassing force surrounding her. Entering her. Urging her to find her own wind and fly on it. His kisses started carefully enough, but soon had a savage edge. His caresses did not touch so much as claim. His size dominated her, but so did his spirit and the madness he demanded she share.
