trailed her fingers in the steaming water once more. She looked at the food, then at the bath, then at him, her expression filled with yearning.
In a voice a child might use when hoping for a longed-for treat, she asked, “Would it be permissible for me to bathe first while the water is still warm?”
“Would you like some help?” The words were out before Wolf had a chance to think them through.
“Nay!” She flushed a becoming pink. “That is, I mean—”
Wolf held up a hand to silence her stammering response. “I only meant I would send Bea up to assist you. We don’t have ladies’ maids here, but I’m certain she would gladly help.”
She looked alarmed. “Oh, nay, it will not be—”
“I refuse to find you floating face down in the bath later,” he insisted.
“It is hardly big enough to float in,” she observed.
“Still.” Though he spoke with great seriousness, the conclusion she had drawn from his earlier statement actually amused him.
Then again, mayhap it wasn’t so amusing, since a part of him would like to assist her with her bath. He imagined slipping the wet gown off her shoulders, slicking the steaming hot water over her slim body, rubbing the soap over her breasts, trailing his fingers down to—
He slammed a door on the image.
What had come over him?
He had always been a physical sort of man, but since Beth’s death, he had poured all of his energies into making his print shops a success and raising his daughter. In all truth, sexual congress had been the least of his priorities since losing his beloved wife three years before. When necessary, he made his way down to Halle to the widow who asked no questions, and required no commitments from him. His visits there were sporadic and brief, as he always felt a vague sense of guilt as if he was betraying Beth. With his father’s death, those needs had gone completely by the wayside. Had he ignored them for too long?
Wolf sensed Sabina’s steady gaze. She must have answered him while he was building castles in the air and now expected a reply. He had no idea what she had said.
“Er, very well then,” he offered, in what he hoped was a suitable response. He felt like an idiot. “If you wish, I could arrange for—for …”
She licked her lips self-consciously, leaving them wet and glistening.
Whatever he had been about to say fled his mind completely. His voice trailed away, and he realized he was staring at her mouth.
Hell.
She nervously drew a slim hand across her throat, and he couldn’t help imagining the feel of her skin beneath his hands. She caught at a dark lock of hair, and fretfully turned it around her finger; he visualized his fingers doing the same. Her every movement seemed designed to inflame him, though he suspected she wasn’t aware of it.
For a moment, he caught a glimpse of the carnal sixteen-year-old of years before. She must have been a ripe plum for the taking, all those years ago. He thought of the villain who had plucked her, squeezed the sweetness out of her, and taken what should have gone to a husband who could love and cherish her. A hot anger toward the careless stranger who so casually ruined her life bubbled up within him; any thoughts of betraying Beth were eclipsed by the confused, heated tangle of emotions he suddenly felt for this woman whom he barely knew.
The urge to possess her somehow—mayhap to touch the place where her pulse beat a lush rhythm beneath her skin—became irresistible. Wolf took a step toward her and reached out his finger, barely touching her, following the path she had made down her throat.
Her lips parted on an inhalation of surprise.
Like a man in a dream, he caressed the delicate cradle at the base of her neck, just above her collarbone, lingering there for a moment.
Her eyes drifted shut.
Responding to the madness overtaking him, he lifted his finger and slowly stroked across her mouth. When she sighed, he could not resist the temptation created by the
In a voice a child might use when hoping for a longed-for treat, she asked, “Would it be permissible for me to bathe first while the water is still warm?”
“Would you like some help?” The words were out before Wolf had a chance to think them through.
“Nay!” She flushed a becoming pink. “That is, I mean—”
Wolf held up a hand to silence her stammering response. “I only meant I would send Bea up to assist you. We don’t have ladies’ maids here, but I’m certain she would gladly help.”
She looked alarmed. “Oh, nay, it will not be—”
“I refuse to find you floating face down in the bath later,” he insisted.
“It is hardly big enough to float in,” she observed.
“Still.” Though he spoke with great seriousness, the conclusion she had drawn from his earlier statement actually amused him.
Then again, mayhap it wasn’t so amusing, since a part of him would like to assist her with her bath. He imagined slipping the wet gown off her shoulders, slicking the steaming hot water over her slim body, rubbing the soap over her breasts, trailing his fingers down to—
He slammed a door on the image.
What had come over him?
He had always been a physical sort of man, but since Beth’s death, he had poured all of his energies into making his print shops a success and raising his daughter. In all truth, sexual congress had been the least of his priorities since losing his beloved wife three years before. When necessary, he made his way down to Halle to the widow who asked no questions, and required no commitments from him. His visits there were sporadic and brief, as he always felt a vague sense of guilt as if he was betraying Beth. With his father’s death, those needs had gone completely by the wayside. Had he ignored them for too long?
Wolf sensed Sabina’s steady gaze. She must have answered him while he was building castles in the air and now expected a reply. He had no idea what she had said.
“Er, very well then,” he offered, in what he hoped was a suitable response. He felt like an idiot. “If you wish, I could arrange for—for …”
She licked her lips self-consciously, leaving them wet and glistening.
Whatever he had been about to say fled his mind completely. His voice trailed away, and he realized he was staring at her mouth.
Hell.
She nervously drew a slim hand across her throat, and he couldn’t help imagining the feel of her skin beneath his hands. She caught at a dark lock of hair, and fretfully turned it around her finger; he visualized his fingers doing the same. Her every movement seemed designed to inflame him, though he suspected she wasn’t aware of it.
For a moment, he caught a glimpse of the carnal sixteen-year-old of years before. She must have been a ripe plum for the taking, all those years ago. He thought of the villain who had plucked her, squeezed the sweetness out of her, and taken what should have gone to a husband who could love and cherish her. A hot anger toward the careless stranger who so casually ruined her life bubbled up within him; any thoughts of betraying Beth were eclipsed by the confused, heated tangle of emotions he suddenly felt for this woman whom he barely knew.
The urge to possess her somehow—mayhap to touch the place where her pulse beat a lush rhythm beneath her skin—became irresistible. Wolf took a step toward her and reached out his finger, barely touching her, following the path she had made down her throat.
Her lips parted on an inhalation of surprise.
Like a man in a dream, he caressed the delicate cradle at the base of her neck, just above her collarbone, lingering there for a moment.
Her eyes drifted shut.
Responding to the madness overtaking him, he lifted his finger and slowly stroked across her mouth. When she sighed, he could not resist the temptation created by the
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