She set her spoon down in the empty bowl. “And you, Sir Lancelot, are an enigma.”
“I know.”
He gestured toward the staircase. “I had a servant heat you some water, if you would care to follow me.”
She rose to her feet slowly.Why is he giving me all I ask? When will he start taking?Her inner voice warned:He is a man. There will be a price to pay.Douglas tried to silence the voice.When I call the tune, I’m perfectly willing to pay the piper. It could be most rewarding.“Lead on, my lord.”
Greystoke led her directly to his own bedchamber, where a copper bath stood before the fire. Her glance swept about the room. The furniture was polished black oak, the hangings gold velvet, and the huge bed dominated the chamber.
A manservant appeared carrying two buckets of steaming water. He added it to the water already in the copper tub.
Douglas smiled. “Thank you so much.”
The man acknowledged her thanks with a nod, and withdrew.
She sat down in a chair before the fire and proceeded to remove her boots. Then she took off her knitted hose and wriggled her bare toes in the deep-piled carpet. She paused, wondering if he would leave. When Greystoke remained, she deliberately reached up and unpinned her braids, then with deft fingers she loosened the plaited strands. She shook her head and the fiery red tresses tumbled about her shoulders. Her eyes met his in a challenge. When he made no move to leave, she was determined that he would not intimidate her, nor inhibit her, for that matter. She turned her back on him and began to unfasten the buttons at her neck. “I’ll need a towel,” she threw over her shoulder, “and something clean to put on.”
Silence behind her made her glance back. Greystoke had disappeared. With all speed she stripped off her leather breeches and the rest of her clothes and climbed into the tub.
The water covered only her legs and hips, but she scooped up handfuls and splashed it over her belly and breasts. Douglas let out a blissful sigh, and picked up the soap and sponge.
The door opened. Greystoke hadn’t disappeared for long. He closed the distance between them. He carried a towel and a white linen shirt. “I have no female garments, Firebrand, but you don’t seem to mind male attire.”
She slid down as low as she could in the tub, proving that she was both intimidated and inhibited. She clutched the sponge to her breasts like a protective shield.
“Douglas, surely by now you know I won’t harm you?”
“Are you telling me I can trust you?”
“Good God, I wouldn’t go that far!”
“You arrogant devil. Turn your eyes away, while I finish bathing.”
“Not a chance.” His gaze licked over her, missing no detail. “You are extremely lovely to look at. But for me, that isn’t your main attraction.”
His words so intrigued her, she forgot to clutch the sponge.
“It is your pride and confidence. It makes you incandescent. I’ve never seen a woman who seemed more alive, Firebrand.” He reached down and took the sponge, then he moved behind her, lifted her hair, and soaped her back. “Your bravado is irresistible, and your innocence draws me like a siren’s song.”
“The water cools.”
“My blood heats.”
“Step away, or I’ll rake my nails down your face!”
He chuckled. “Feisty little Scot.” He held out the towel.
Her eyes widened. “You are baiting me.”
He grinned. “And you are rising to the bait.”
She did rise. Like Venus from the sea. She deliberately drenched him with the water. She grabbed the towel, and Greystoke grabbed her. She was panting with anger and indignation, and she struggled in his powerful arms like a wildcat. She soon realized that fighting him was useless. He was far too strong. She stilled, and to her amazement, he set her feet to the carpet.
“I think we’ve succeeded in banishing your chill and warming your blood. Dry yourself and put on my shirt. I hope you enjoyed the tussle as much as I did.” He removed his soaking wet shirt, and reached for her towel.
Douglas stepped back quickly before he could snatch the towel and render her naked.
“How dare you?” she demanded. “‘Tis said the Scots are uncivilized, but I warrant they have nothing on Englishmen. I expected a chivalrous nobleman, not a savage barbarian!”
