“I’ll leave ye be,” she said quickly, already turning toward the steps.
“Dinnae leave on me account.”
“Ragnar—”
“Ye came here tae bathe, aye? So bathe.” There was something dark and teasing in his voice that made her stomach flip. “I promise tae keep me eyes tae meself. Liv told me tae soak and relax a bit, as long as I didnae wet me bandaging.”
She glanced back at him, her eyes narrowing to slits. “Will ye now?”
“I’lltry.” The corner of his mouth curved. “Though ye’re nae makin’ it easy, little wolf.”
“I havenae done anythin’—”
“That’s the problem.”
Steam curled between them, obscuring and revealing things in equal measure.
Isolda’s eyes found the strong line of his bare shoulders, the thick column of his throat, the sharp cut of his jaw and the broad expanse of his chest. The rest remained hidden beneath the water—shifting shadows as he moved.
Silence stretched between them, thick as honey and twice as sweet.
Isolda rooted her eyes to the far wall, painfully aware of the way the water lapped against the swell of her breasts.
“How’s yer shoulder?” she asked, desperate to break the silence before it suffocated her.
“Better. The stitches are holdin’ well. Thank ye fer today.”
“They’re Liv’s stitches. I just followed her instructions.”
“Yer hands worked though.” The water shifted as he moved, and she forced her eyes to stay on the wall. “They were… gentle. Careful.”
“Ye’re a six-and-a-half foot Viking warrior.” She rolled her eyes.
“Aye, but everyone needs care sometimes.” His voice came out thoughtful.
She risked a glance at him and found him watching her, head tilted slightly as if studying a puzzle, he couldn’t solve.
“And did ye?” she heard herself ask.
“Aye. I’m lookin’ at it.” His voice came out gravelly.
Och, why dae ye have tae say things like that?
She closed her eyes closed and tried desperately to focus on the sensation of the water, the mineral smell, the distant drip-drip from somewhere in the darkness—anything but the naked man sitting ten feet away from her.
Time passed—seconds or minutes, she couldn’t tell—the heat making everything hazy, dreamlike, as if she’d stepped out of reality. She opened her eyes again and found him still watching her.
She knew she should look away, but instead, she looked back—let herself really see him the way he was seeing her.
He’s me husband. I’m allowed tae look... arenae I?
The water had darkened his hair, turning it from gold to bronze. Tiny droplets clung to his shoulders, his chest, catching the lamplight. She could see the rise and fall of his chest, his breath coming slightly faster than normal.
He was beautiful the way a blade was—all hard edges and lethal precision wrapped up in something undeniably, devastatingly irresistible.
And he was staring at her like she was the only thing in the entire world worth seeing.
“Isolda.” Her name came, rumbling. “Ye shouldnae—” he stopped, clenching his teeth. His hands tightened on the pools’ edge, knuckles going white as heat and hunger and barelyrestrained control flashed across his face all at once. “Dinnae look at me like that, little wolf.”
