When I stepped out of the water, my skin was pink from the heat and smelled of the gentle fragrance of the soap.
I smelled like Marcus.
After squeezing all the excess water out of my hair, I dried off with the towel Marcus had provided and started to dress.
It was strange to step inside his clothing, intimate in a way that nothing had ever been before. The breeches and shirt were twice my size, which made me smile. I found a section of rope to secure them, but instead of stopping at my calves, where they settled on Marcus, the hems rested on my ankles. The shirt was impossible to tuck in, since it went down to my knees, but I did my best. I had known he was much bigger than me, but until now, I hadn’t realized how much.
My bare feet were poking out from the bottom of the breeches, but he hadn’t thought to give me stockings. I didn’t want to put on my buckled shoes without them, knowing how dirty they were, as well, so I kept my feet bare as I tried to comb out my hair.
Despite the silky soap, the salt water was not kind to my thick hair, and it took some work to get the comb through it. I wanted to dry it fully before I put it in the ribbon again, so I left it loose around my shoulder. Then I picked up my dirty clothes and the bath items.
A knock at the door startled me.
“Are you dressed?” Marcus asked in a voice just above a whisper. “I’ll bring in the clean water to rinse your clothing.”
I wasn’t prepared to see him like this, yet I had little choice. “I’m dressed.”
But only barely.
He slowly opened the door, and then paused before entering.
I clutched my dirty clothes to my chest, trying in vain to not look so vulnerable.
His dark eyes took in my bare feet, the large trousers cinched at my waist, the oversized shirt—his shirt—and my unbound hair before his gaze found mine.
Not for the first time, Marcus Zale took my breath away. It was the look in his eyes—stormy and tender, yet defenseless and powerful all at the same time.
I sensed danger, but not from him—from myself.
My attraction for Marcus was intensifying, and I hadn’t realized how much until this moment as I stood before him in his clothes, after he’d given me a priceless gift.
“Your hair is bonny.”
“Thank you.” I lowered my gaze, afraid my flaming cheeks would give away my growing feelings for him.
He left the cabin and returned with the smaller tub of water before closing the door. “You can wash your clothes in the bathwater and then rinse them in the clean water.” He set down the tub and went to his chest and pulled out a section of rope. “I’ll string this up in here so you can dry your clothes without anyone the wiser.”
“What if someone asks for me?”
“I’ll tell them you’re not feeling well. No one likes to be sick, so they’ll leave you be.”
I had no time to lose, so I dropped my clothes into the bathtub and rolled up my shirtsleeves, then I began to scrub the binding with the soap I had used to bathe.
It felt good to be clean and to have someone who cared enough to look after my comfort. As I scrubbed my clothing, I began to hum. I couldn’t help it.
“’Tis a bonnie sound,” Marcus said after a moment.
I paused, my cheeks warming at his praise. I hadn’t realized I was humming loud enough for him to notice.
“Please don’t stop,” he said. “’Tis the nicest thing I’ve heard in a long while.”
I felt self-conscious, but if it pleased him, I would continue.
As we both worked, I glanced in his direction and saw a gentle smile on his face while he secured the rope to a nail on the wall.
My own smile tilted my lips.
When he finished, he seemed reluctant to leave and busied himself by returning his comb to his chest and hanging the towel I’d used to dry off. I rinsed the binding and the shirt I had just finished washing. As I hung the binding, I was self-conscious again, hoping he didn’t guess what it was for.
