Page 33 of Rules for a Bastard Lord
“And is she?”
He was teasing her, challenging her to admit her interest. She knew it was a game to him, and yet she found herself responding, nonetheless. “I ’aven’t seen the front o’ ye yet.”
“Say it correctly.”
“I ain’t a lady yet.”
“But you’re practicing. Say it—”
“I haven’t seen the front of you, so I can’t tell.”
“Do you want me to turn around?”
Yes! No! Yes!
“So far, you’re not any different than the men I’ve seen afore.” Liar, liar!
“It’s true, the parts are all the same. But I take issue with the idea that I’m not any different. My hair, for example. Does everyone’s curl so abominably wild when dry but remain completely flat when wet?”
“Lots.”
“Are their shoulders so broad? Their noses so strong?”
He was pointing out all the things she had noticed, though a strong nose was not necessarily an asset in her mind. Still, he had a kind of chiseled granite to his features that she found very appealing.
“I didn’t look that closely.”
“Liar.”
“I didn’t look closely…at your nose.”
He grinned. And then he dropped more deeply into the water. Gone was his tight bum, gone too were the tiny indents just below his waist. But that was as far as he sank. And then he turned around.
She gasped and pressed a hand to her mouth to silence the sound. It was too late, of course, but she tried anyway. Especially as her eyes were devouring the sight of the dark hair on his chest. Not as thick as a pelt, but it was slick with water and drew the eye from the widely spaced nipples, narrowing down to his flat stomach, and into…
The water.
She could not see more.
“Have you seen a naked man before, Bluebell?”
She nodded without willing it. “I helped the witch-woman for nearly a year until Mama found out and stopped me. But I saw ailing men of all sorts.”
“Truly? For nearly a year?”
She nodded. “Mum had the cough and was sleeping whene’er she could. Hard to keep track of me then.”
“So you took the excuse to play?”
She glared at him. “I worked to pay off the medicines. And I worked to learn ’ow t’ make them meself.”
“How to make themmyself,” he corrected.
She grimaced. It was damned hard to keep her words on track when other concerns seemed more important. But she repeated the words slowly with theh.
“Good. Now I’m going to stand up, Bluebell. I’m going to stand up completely and let you look your full.”
She gaped at him. He couldn’t truly mean it, except one look at his face told her he did. “But…”
