Page 39 of Immortal Bastard

“Do you prefer grape or berry?”

She glanced over her shoulder. The glassy sheen in her eyes gave him pause. He placed the jars on the dry sink and crossed the room, crouching at her side.

“Tell me how to make this easier for you. I can’t bear the sight of tears in your eyes. I’d much prefer your sharp tongue and disdain if it’s a choice between my pain and yours.”

“Grape,” she rasped.

He waited, hoping she’d say more, but nodded when she remained silent. Perhaps her tears were of relief. A small battle won, when she learned she had options and would not have to abandon all of her values. Did she also realize he would do anything to prevent her a moment's suffering?

He rose to prepare her another sandwich. Maybe there were ways around the vegetarian issue after all.

This time, when he placed it in front of her, she attacked it with ravenous zeal. In less than a minute, only crumbs remained. He poured her a glass of milk to wash it down.

He ached for her acceptance, desperately wanting her approval in a way he’d never desired anyone’s approval before. It felt very good to please her.

She glanced at the glass then met his stare. “Do you have any juice?”

Thrilled her guard was lowering, and they were speaking in civilized tones, he pulled a jar of cider down from the shelf and filled a glass for her. She drank heavily, guzzling half the offering and washing down the sandwich. She must have been starving indeed.

When she finished, she leaned back in the chair and patted her flat belly. The press of her decorated nipples showed through the material of her shift and he found himself recalling how the metal gauges felt in his mouth.

“Would you like a bath?”

Her gaze snapped to his face and she scowled, their alliance gone without a trace. “Alone?”

That hadn’t been what he’d offered, but he supposed he hadn’t fully expressed his desires. She clearly wasn’t suffering the attraction he’d been combatting in that moment.

“Yes, alone. Of course.”

She nodded.

“Follow me.” He didn’t want her to run away again, so he held out his hand. She looked at the offering and walked past him.

“Where?”

He sighed. So much for their alliance. “The bedroom.”

He set a kettle over the fire and she watched him work as she waited quietly on the edge of the bed. There were methods for heated tubs using coal and copper wire, but he hadn’t had time to build such amenities. It was a choice between an indoor latrine or a self-heating tub, and he thought she’d appreciate the latrine more, especially during the colder months.

“Eventually, we’ll have a faster system,” he said, pouring another kettle of steaming water into the copper tub. He stirred in some fragrant oils to help her relax and placed a towel on a chair beside the basin, with a hunk of soap for washing.

“That should be warm enough. If the water chills, you can add more from the kettle.”

She trailed a tattooed finger through the water. Crossing to the door, she held it open to him.

“I’ll leave you to bathing then.”

Her gaze followed him in an almost entrapping sense. Dark lashes framed her watchful eyes as her mouth curved ever so slightly with the hint of a smile. Alas, they were forming a truce.

“Is there anything else you need, pintura?” His voice turned gravelly as the image of her naked body soaking in the tub filled his mind.

Her dainty fingers curled around the thick edge of the open door. His chest filled with a much-needed breath as the scent of lavender mingled with her familiar fragrance. She smiled at him sweetly, and he drew closer, a magnetic pull luring him in.

Then the door slammed in his face.

Right. So, she was still upset about being taken and held against her will.

Every couple had challenges.

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