Leila blinked, his husky voice releasing her. "Yes.Yes, you're right. Excuse me."
She spun and fled, her face burning, supremely gratefulfor the shelter of the curtains. She had anticipated his reaction to herappearance, but she had hardly expected her own flustered response. She foughtto still her trembling and pressed her hands to her flushed cheeks.
Her plan was working well, almost too well. How easy itwas to deceive a man! She heard Guy resume his bathing, and she quickly decidedto do one last thing before she began her own ablutions.
Taking the pitcher front table, she quietly emptied thewater into the tub,thenrefilled it with wine. Lastlyshe added the opiate, pouring the remainder of the cup's steeped contents intothe pitcher except for the sediment, which she tossed out the open window.Since she had no idea how she would manage to drug his wine once the curtainswere opened, it was better to do so now.
Leila set the tin cup on the table and then wrenchedher shift over her head. Her nipples hardened from the cool breeze wafting inthe window. She eased herself into the tub, amazed that the water still heldwarmth. She splashed her face and throat. Rivulets trickled between herbreasts. How wonderful the water felt after weeks of sponge bathing!
And how wonderful it would be when she was home againand could enjoy a proper bath under the ministrations of her odalisques, shemused, glancing down at the ebony triangle between her thighs. Those shortcurls were indecent, and she couldn't wait to be rid of them, but there wasn'tanything to be done about it until she returned to Damascus. The way this nightwas progressing, that hope seemed brighter than ever.
Eagerly Leila unbraided her hair, for the momentthinking more about the pleasure of her bath than her plot of escape. Holdingon to the rim, she lowered her head back in the water to wet her long, ripplingtresses. Only then did she remember the soap in the saddlebag.
Rising up on her knees, Leila reached over the rim andgrabbed one end of the saddlebag, dragged it toward her, and flipped it open.She fumbled for the soap, found it, and was twisting around to settle in thewater once more when she cried out in pain, her scalp tingling. Some of herhair was caught between two wooden staves on the other side of the tub.
"What's wrong?"cameGuy's concerned query. "Nothing . . . I'm fine," she lied, tugging ather hair and wincing. It would not come loose!
How terribly awkward, she thought, lowering herself asfar as possible into the tub even though the water was barely deep enough tocover her breasts. Now she would have to ask Guy . . .
Her lips curved into a slow smile as she realized howperfectly this clumsy situation could further her plan. If Guy saw her likethis, his lust could not help but he aroused. No doubt he wouldlooseher hair and then immediately seek solace from thepitcher of wine while she continued to bathe. If he drank it down to the dregs,and quickly, he would be out cold within the hour.
She shivered, not knowing if she did so from anxiety orexcitement at the thought that she might soon escape Guy deWarenneforever. Gulping a deep breath, she called out, "My lord, could you pleasehelp me? My hair is caught in this tub and I can't move."
Guy froze, a wool towel pressed so tightly against hischest he could feel his rampant heartbeat right through it. The rhythm seemedto match exactly the thundering pulsation in his loins. He was so hard, ithurt.
He groaned, cursing under his breath. God help him, hehad known that bathing together, even on opposite sides of the room, would be abad mistake. He should never have agreed. Surely he hadn't heard her correctly.
"Lord deWarenne?"
He exhaled sharply and stepped from the tub. Now heknew he hadn't imagined her request. But still he hesitated.
Was Leila out of her mind? Could it be possible she wasoblivious to her maddening effect on him? When she had brought him the wine, itwas all he could do not to sweep her into the tub with him. She might as wellhave been standing there naked for all the covering the flimsy shift hadprovided her, her dark woman's hair a taunting shadow beneath the white fabric.By heaven, why was he being so sorely tested, and less than four days' journeyfrom London?
"Lord deWarenne!"
"Damn," Guy muttered, fastening a towelsecurely around his hips. He knew ithidlittle ofhis turgid and increasingly uncomfortable condition, but hisbraieswouldn't do any better. No amount of willpower couldmake this erection go away. As soon as he helped her, he would have to takecare of it himself.
Draining his mug, Guy decided he would rather endure atrial by ordeal—carrying a red-hot iron bar three paces or picking a stone froma vat of boiling water—then walk around this bed. If there had ever been a suretest of his self-control, it was this one.
He swallowed hard as he approached the tub. Leila'sslender back was to him, and he saw the problem immediately. Somehow her wethair had snagged in the opposite staves. He would have to walk around . . .
"What took you so long, my lord?" Leilaasked, trying to keep the nervousness from her voice as she sensed him behindher. She made no move to cover herself, yet she felt extremely vulnerable asshe heard him draw closer. "Do you see what has happened?"
"Yes, I can see well enough," Guy answeredthickly, his gaze raking over her as he walked around the tub. "How didyou manage to do this anyway?"
"Reaching for the saddlebag. I was trying to getmy soap . . ." She faltered, gasping slightly as she noticed the obviousswelling beneath the towel slung low around his hips. She quickly averted hereyes.
At least he was wearing a towel this time, she thoughtgratefully, though from the way he was looking at her, she wished she had onewith which to cover herself, too. She decided he was aroused enough. She didn'tneed to help him along in that direction. She slowly crossed her arms over herbreasts and drew her knees up to hide her lower body, her movements causinganother sharp tug to her scalp.
"Ouch!" she exclaimed softly, sucking in herbreath. "Please, my lord. It hurts."
Guy smiled grimly at her remark. Surely her pain had tobe slight compared to his discomfort.
Leila was as bewitching a water nymph as he hadimagined she would be, even more so. He could almost feel the devil breathingdown his neck, for if there had ever been a time he was tempted to break anoath . . .
Guy clenched his teeth, attempting to concentrate onhis task as he knelt and began to work at the two staves.
To his relief, her hair came free in seconds, and herose to his feet, trying not to stare at her lithe white limbs and herglistening wet breasts, but finding it impossible. When had he ever seenanother woman so fair?
