Page 66 of The Bodyguard Who Came in from the Cold
“Margery?”
She came up on one elbow. “Yes?”
“I hope I have not offended you by being so forward as to use your tub.”
“Why, no, Gareth.”
“Do not worry so. I am sure your husband would never dream of doing such a thing.”
With a groan, she covered her face again. How had he known what she was thinking? She lay still, and as she listened to the sounds of him bathing, soon she was imagining touching him again.
Margery suddenly sat up. What was she waiting for? He was a man. He wouldn’t refuse her—although he already had. Surely that was just on principle.
She stood up and walked slowly toward the screen, biting her lip. She put a hand on the wood and stopped, unsure of what to say. Then taking a deep breath, she stepped around the screen.
“Can I help you wash your back?”
Gareth stiffened at the sound of her voice, his back to her, his wet shoulders gleaming in the candlelight. His hair was damp, darker, slicked back. He looked over his shoulder at her with wary eyes, but didn’t answer.
Silently she walked around to the front. He was almost too big for her tub. Soapy, cloudy water lapped at his bent knees. His lower body was a vague, rippling outline beneath the surface. He lifted his arms out and rested them on the edge of the tub, where they dripped water in soft spatters onto the floor.
The moment felt almost like a dream, where Margery did things she’d never do by day. Everything was forbidden, yet the intoxication of it lured her forward. At the foot of the tub she leaned over him, resting her hands on the rim. There were mysterious shadows flickering over his hips. She wanted to submerge her hands and explore.
He tilted his head back to look up at her. “Isn’t this…dangerous?”
“Yes.” Her voice was almost a whisper.
“If someone saw this?—”
“They won’t.”
“I’m not sure why you’re?—”
“Shh.” Margery slowly pushed her sleeves above her elbows. She glanced at the small table where the dish of soap and extra towel lay, but there was no facecloth. She spied it in the depths of the tub, next to his hip. She reached down into the water, making sure to brush along his flesh as she brought the cloth out.
He closed his eyes for a moment, and she felt wild and powerful. Did he tremble like she did? Gareth had lived many places, done many things. Surely her nearness did not affect him so much.
She wrung out the cloth, dipped it into the soft soap, then walked around to his back to kneel down. When she saw his hands grip the rim of the tub, she smiled with satisfaction.
Spreading the cloth across her hand, she murmured, “Lean forward.”
There was a long pause, and she thought for a moment that Gareth would refuse. She didn’t know she was holding her breath until he finally did as she asked. Before she could change her mind, she began to wash his back in slow circles, being gentle where she saw bruises. His body was hard and so different from hers.
She didn’t remember even having time to truly look at Peter like this. Their moments together had been quick and furtive and exciting, nothing like this slow, languorous danger that now moved through her. She dropped the cloth, lathered her bare hands, and began washing his neck beneath his hair.
He propped his head in his hands. She didn’t know whether she was putting him to sleep or if he was enjoying her touch. She moved lower on his back, feeling his hot, wet skin and each muscle beneath the surface. As her hands dipped beneath the water, her fingers moving just past his waist, she felt him shudder.
Gareth pressed his fingers hard into his skull, trying to hold on to his sanity. Margery was doing her best to seduce him. Any moment now, his control would crack and he would drag her into the tub and thrust inside her.
But he was determined that he would bed her only when she loved him, when she was choosing him as husband and they were bound together.
Women usually played coy and shy with him. He was supposed to guess their feelings and take action, so whatever they did sexually would be his fault, not theirs. All they would allow themselves was pretending to submit to his desires.
Never had a woman treated him like Margery did, like he was worth her time and attention.
He tried to tell himself that she always went after what she wanted because she was spoiled. She had her marriage plan all worked out, and it didn’t include an unpredictable husband she desired too much.
He suddenly realizedhewas playing the woman’s part in this seduction: flirting, responding, but not letting things go too far. He wanted her to become so frustrated that she had no choice but to marry him.
