Page 89 of Wedded to the Scottish Duke

The maid swiftly left, leaving her to her bath.

Slowly, Celia took off her dressing gown. Her body no longer felt so sore from what she had done that morning with Keith, though there was a dull sort of ache between her legs that she hoped would be alleviated by the bath.

Pulling the screen back a little so she could see more of the sunset, she slipped into the bath. It was so warm that she sank all the way down to her neck and closed her eyes, resting her neck on the rim of the tub. She wrapped her arms around herself under the water, remembering the way it had felt that morning when it was Keith’s arms around her rather than her own.

There was a click somewhere, as if a door opened.

Celia’s eyes shot open, and she sat bolt upright in the bath, turning around with her arms crossed over her chest. She looked at the main door, but it was closed. Frowning, she turned to look at the adjoining door to Keith’s chamber, but it was also closed.

It was in my imagination.

She sank back down into the water again, chewing on her lip. Had it been Keith, she would have wanted to know where he had gone that afternoon, but perhaps it was too much to hope for his company again this evening.

What if he has taken all he wanted… and he wants no more?

She dunked her head, so her hair was floating in the water. It was a fear lodged deep in her chest, that maybe he would feel their passion had already burned out. It wasn’t the case for her, though. Now that she had tasted him once, she wanted him again.

She pushed her head back above the water, and the sight that greeted her shocked her so much that she yelped.

“Ah—Keith!” She sat tall, her arms crossed over her breasts as she stared at him.

He stood at the bottom of her bathtub, wearing only his shirt and his trousers. His hair was rather wild, as if he had run his hands through it multiple times.

“Where the hell have you been?”

“Good evening to ye too?”

“Oh yes, yes, good evening,” she said distractedly. “I woke up and you were gone.”

“I couldn’t sleep.” His eyes were roaming over her body.

Any fears she might have had that his passion for her had been extinguished suddenly evaporated. Feeling bold, she droppedher arms, putting her breasts on show as she started washing her body.

He growled as he watched her.

“Something wrong?” she teased him.

“Don’t tease me,” he warned, moving toward the side of the tub. “I might decide to help ye wash.”

“Would you?” She offered him the bar of soap, smiling up at him.

He narrowed his eyes a little, as if suspicious of her action, then he reached for his shirt. She tried her best to stifle a giggle of delight as he bared himself. There was an added thrill that, for this time, he was willing to remove his shirt, to be completely… vulnerable.

The shirt dropped to the floor as he reached for his trousers and unbuckled them, pushing them down too.

She settled back against the edge of the bathtub, making room for his large and tall frame. Fortunately, it was a large tub, though he still took up most of the space.

“We’re not going to fit,” she said in sudden realization.

“I can solve that.” He reached for her hips.

The bar of soap fell between them as he pulled her into his lap. Her back was to his front as he wrapped one arm firmly around her waist, his other hand moving to tease her inner thigh. She gasped at the feel of his skin against her own. When his finger moved higher, not quite touching her center but teasing her further, she leaned her head back against his shoulder and moaned.

“How sore are ye?” he whispered into the crook of her neck.

“I’m not sore at all,” she lied.

She was a little sore, but that wouldn’t help her case—she wanted him again and was willing to risk a little more soreness just to have him.

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