Page 72 of Moon Craving

tradition of washing your shifts on you."

She looked down and immediately tried to cover herself. The thin fabric was

completely transparent in the water. "You should not look at me like that."

"I am the only man that should."

"Naturally, no one else should either."

He pulled her toward him in the heated water until their bodies brushed. "Get used

to it. I like looking at you."

"It is not decent."

"It is."

"Talorc . . ."

"Come, let us wash your shift." He let go of her waist but immediately slipped one

of his arms around her so that he held her just as securely to him. Only he now did so with

one hand free.

Backing toward the edge of the pool, he reached behind him with his hand. "Aha."

He held the soap up for her to see.

For a moment Abigail's need for cleanliness overshadowed her shyness and she

reached for it.

But he shook his head. "I will play your handmaiden."

The idea was so ludicrous, she laughed. The sound might have been hysterical;

she did not know. She could not hear the sound, and for once, she did not mind. Her

nerves were too close to the surface of her control to care if her voice was working

properly in this instance.

"You must be patient with me. 'Tis not my usual role."

She stared at him, unable to speak. He did not mean to wash her. He could not.

And yet, he did not appear in the least like he was joking either. His mouth was set in a

serious line while his eyes devoured her.

"I can wash myself."

"It will be my pleasure."

"But--"

No more words had a chance to make it past her lips before he began to wash her