“May I?” I asked, holding out the soap again. This time, she raised a brow.
She returned my question with some of her own. “You’re going to bathe me? Isn’t that a little intimate for someone who considers me so unbearable?”
“Yes—if you’ll let me. And if anyone is the unbearable one, it is not you.”
Sybilla pouted. “Well, it isn’t any fun to rib you if you’re going to be self-deprecating about it.”
I expected her to move away or decline my offer, but instead, she swayed closer in the water and faced away from me so I could begin with her hair. I lathered the soap between my hands. As my fingers worked against her scalp, she hummed and leaned into me, her back pressed to my front. I swallowed hard and letmy hand trail along her neck before running the soap down her shoulder, pushing down the sleeve of her undergarments.
She lowered to rinse her hair, and her body slipped down mine, causing me to stifle a groan. When she emerged, she lifted her arms and slipped her top undergarment over her head.
She said, “You can’t properly bathe while clothed.” My breath caught as she shimmied out of the bottoms and let them float toward the banks.
When she turned toward me, the sight of her tightened nipples at the water’s surface drew my attention.
“I suppose you’re right,” I mustered. “I might need assistance.” I didn’t. But the words sparked interest in her eyes.
“Courting me. Asking for my help. Who is this new man?” Her fingers trailed down my torso to find the waist of my underbreeches. She pushed down, and my already hardened length was freed, brushing her hip.
“Tell me again everything you hate about me,” she whispered as I kicked the remaining layer of clothing off between us, not caring if it was lost to the spring.
I shook my head. “There is nothing that I hate about you. It’s the most infuriating thing.”
When she looked up at me, I did not let my memories squash my hope.
Chapter 53
Sybilla
The words on that parchment had been cutting. But his actions were adding up to something different, somethingmore—something that neither of us seemed prepared for, but neither of us could prevent either.
With nothing between us but clear water and the light of the moon, I’d made my mind up.
I still wanted all of him.
No halfway point, no moderation.
I knew he was capable of more.
“There are plenty of things a prospective husband should loathe about me. For one, I can’t promise to be polite, cordial or patient when I don’t want to be. I won’t be mild-mannered or obedient. I can’t help but curse when I’m angry—”
“Sybilla,” he said, trying to cut me off.
“Let me finish, you insufferable bastard,” I snapped, and his brows lifted with entirely too much interest. Sadistic prick.
A prick that I’d happily climb and let take me right here in the spring. I wanted him too much to deny it any longer. I’d rather be angry with him, than angry without him.
I continued, “I am not without faults—I will fight you, every day, tooth and nail, on everything. My corridor may come before your needs. My duty to my realm may make our discussions heated. And if you even think about touching another, then I’ll be blind and murderous with jealousy.”
The lamplight flickered across his satisfied expression, which made me want to lay my feelings bare.
“But I will also fightforyou and your realm just as hard. I will not falter in the face of anything, because I’ve fallen for you. Somehow, no matter how intolerable you act, you’re who I see in my future. I see you leading beside me. Maybe not always together on every matter, but I see you there no less.”
He was quiet, all amusement washing from his face.
A lump formed in my throat. Being naked had nothing to do with how vulnerable I felt.
My confidence faltered.
