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Her smile dimmed. “That’s not the same thing.”
Damned right, it’s not, he thought, but he only smiled.
There was a chaise longue in the bathroom.
Cam settled into it as Salome ran her bath. He’d turn his back when the time came. For now, surely there was no harm in watching her turn on the taps, or choose a bath oil from tiny crystal vials that lined a shelf near the tub.
Nobody could fault him, either, for watching her lift her hair from her shoulders and secure it with a pin so that soft tendrils drooped against her neck.
“Perfect,” she said.
Perfect, he thought, and winced at the swift clenching of his body.
Her back was to him. He could tell she was undoing the buttons on the caftan. It slid from her shoulders.
It was time to look away.
But he didn’t. His eyes were riveted to the graceful lines of her back.
“Cam?” she said softly. “The tub’s so deep… Could you help me get in?”
He nodded. It was safer than speaking, he thought as he went to her. If he kept his eyes averted, if she didn’t turn around…
But she did.
Slowly, slowly enough to make his heart stop, she turned and faced him.
“Cam?” she whispered.
All the questions a woman could ask a man swam in her eyes. All the answers he wanted to give her pounded through his blood.
Slowly he let his gaze slide to her breasts. Her belly. To the nest of golden curls at the juncture of her thighs.
He remembered the feel of those curls against his hand. What would they feel like against his mouth? He wanted to press his face against her, draw her scent deep into his lungs. Open her to him, watch her face as he kissed her…
“Salome,” he said softly, “you’re trying to seduce me.”
“I tried that once,” she said, just as softly. “And it didn’t work.”
And now, they both knew, she was trying again. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She had never been with a man
; he had been with who knew how many women, and she thought she could seduce him?
He was tougher than that—and tough men weren’t cowards. He thought of what she’d asked him before, if there weren’t other things they could do instead of what they both wanted.
There were. Things that would give them both some moments of sweet pleasure without killing him, and perhaps even offer her some release.
Cam smiled. He undid his jeans and stepped out of them. Then he lifted his dancer in his arms and stepped down into the water.
All he had to do now was lower her to her feet. Make sure he set the pace…
Somehow, her arms wound around his neck.
Somehow, when he sank into the tub, she ended up on his lap.
He had to move her. Just a little. If she stayed where she was—oh, God, right where she was…
He shifted her. Bad idea. Her bottom was so warm against him. So female…
