“You swore to honour, and obey,” he hissed at her. “You no like, either you clean, or youleave!”
That was enough to instantly drain all the mirth from Maria’s form, and she made a face, drew in a bracing breath. “I’m sorry,” she made herself say, as steadily as she could. “I’m grateful for your hospitality. And Iamreassured about the lice and fleas, at least.”
She tried for a hopeful smile, which had no effect whatsoever on Simon’s ever-deepening scowl — when suddenly, Baldr strode into the room. And before him, he was carrying a huge metal basin of steaminghot water.
Maria’s breath caught at the sight — gods, she hadn’t properly bathed since she’d left Warmisham House a wholeweekago — and Baldr grinned at her as he kicked clear a spot on the floor, and set the massive basin down with surprising ease.
“For you, Maria,” he said brightly, now producing what appeared to be a bar of actualsoapfrom his trouser pocket, and dropping it into the water with aplunk. “Is there aught else you might need?”
His glanced at Simon as he spoke, his eyebrows rising, and in return Simon replied with a sudden, startling stream of the orcs’ black-tongue. The words deep and harsh and oddly eloquent-sounding, rolling gracefully from his full lips, and for some reason Maria found herself staring at him, and swallowing against the dryness in her throat. Of course he would speak his own language fluently, this wasn’t remarkable in the least, and in truth it sounded just like the noises a snufflingpigwould make…
Baldr was answering in kind, the foreign words sounding somehow far flatter in his mouth, and then he sketched another little bow toward Maria before striding from the room. Leaving Maria and Simon alone again, but now with a steaming hot bath between them.
Maria blinked at the bath, and then down at the contract in her hand — and then at Simon. Simon, who had briefly turned away from her, hanging his scimitar on the wall — and who then dropped his huge form onto the wooden bench. Sprawling there spread-legged and alarmingly casual, his brawny bare arms folding back behind his head.
He was waiting for her.Watching.
Maria swallowed again, while the ever-lurking panic reared up, shouting and rattling against her ribs. Simon wanted her toundress. To bathe in this basin, right here before him. To perhaps give him some kind ofshow…
And it had beenyearssince anyone but her servants had seen Maria undressed — and even before that, her husband had never shown much interest in looking, or in extending matters beyond the bare minimum. It had always left her feeling so unseen, so unsatisfied, sounknown, and now she had to — to —
“Bathe,” Simon’s deep voice snapped from the bench. “You smell of filth. Ofhusband. I no touch until clean.”
Maria’s face flooded with shock, withshame, and her trembly hand immediately fumbled for the now-empty pack still on her back, and dropped it to the floor behind her. Next she grasped for the straps of her baggy overalls, and managed to shove one down, off her shoulder — but she couldn’t seem to even clutch at the other one, prickling ice pooling in her fingers, her lungs, her breath —
“You wish for help?” taunted Simon’s horrible voice from across the room. “Ornowyou turn and run?”
Maria’s chagrined gaze again darted down to the contract still in her other hand, now visibly fluttering in her shaking fingers. Of course she couldn’t run now. Not after she’d made such surprising headway on her freedom, her revenge. She’d gone to bed with Duke Warmisham,surelyshe could do it with an orc, she could bear him a sneezy little son and then leave it forever, she could, she would, shehadto —
Her trembling hand had almost dropped the contract in the bath —shit— and she belatedly flung her shivering body toward the mess of papers on the nearby shelf, and carefully set the contract on top. Smoothing it out with her unsteady fingers, while sucking back one breath, another.
She’d come this far. It was just a bath. He was just an orc. It didn’t matter.Revenge.
“Maria,” came Simon’s voice, quieter than before, instantly snapping her eyes to his ever-frowning face. “You… wish for this. Ach?”
Maria badly flinched, and jolted away from the shelf. “Um,” she heard herself say. “Yes. Absolutely. Most definitely.”
But it came out sounding abominably weak, pathetic, and of course Simon caught that, his eyes narrowing, his huge body leaning forward on thebench. “Then why youtremble,” he said, jabbing a single clawed finger toward her. “Why you smell of suchfear. Youlieto me of this?”
Maria had to haul in breaths, force her gaze to stay on his, make her shoulders sharp and square. “I wasn’t lying, and I’m not afraid,” she shot back. “I already told you, it’s just been a while, and surely you can understand I might be a little nervous!”
“To havebath?” Simon countered, his deep voice flat, bitter. “When you have sworn in ink tofuckme?!”
Maria’s hands had snapped up to her face, dragging against her hot cheeks, the mess of her hair. “Well, you’re just sitting therewatchingme! And frowning at me like that, with all your clothes still on, like you’re just waiting to judge me, andmockme. Just like you have ever since the first moment wespoke!”
The words rang through the too-small room, pulsing painfully in Maria’s skull, and she braced for Simon’s snarl, for the mocking retort that would surely come — but there was only an odd, stiff stillness. And as Maria stood there, dangerously and inexplicably on the verge of tears, Simon’s hulking body seemed to jerk on the bench, his hands dropping to his waist, yanking at his thick leather belt —
And then he rose up to his feet, the movement surprisingly graceful — and shucked his trousers full to the floor. Revealing muscled grey calves, huge, powerful, hair-dusted thighs, and — Maria’s breath lurched in her throat — everything at his groin.
Everything.
Maria couldn’t stop staring, blinking, drinking up the sight. The mass of thick, soft-looking black hair. The twin weights of his hanging bollocks, nestled against those powerful thighs. And most imposing of all, that thick, veined, dangling length of him, alarmingly large even at rest, perhaps on a level with the sword-hilt on the wall behind him…
The shock had sucked away all Maria’s breath, all possible protests, and she only vaguely noticed him smoothly kicking off his boots, hurling them — and the trousers — off into the room’s distant chaos. Because gods, he wasmagnificent, his massive muscles shifting and rippling with every movement, that thick grey length swaying to match. And as he gracefully dropped to sit on the bench again, his huge thighs sprawling wide and shameless apart, Maria nearly choked on the vision of it, the power of it, the gods-damned illogicallonging.
“Better?” his low voice purred, dark, taunting. “Now that I too wear naught but my skin?”
And in this hazy, surreal instant, Maria didn’t care in the least if he was mocking her, judging her, challenging her. Even the contract, the revenge, had seemed to fade off into a vague, powerless distance. Leaving only the wild, almost irresistible urge to step closer, to smell, totouch. And then…
