"'Tis what every castle needs. How convenient to have a warm bath almost anytime you wish."
"Aye." Torr continued pumping, filling the tub.
"How did Finnian learn to do this?"
"He has many books about inventions from the continent."
"The man is a genius." Even though the tincture Finnian had formulated had not worked the way she had expected, it did work.
She'd only had two modest swallows of the ale, but her blood was heating like a fever from deep inside. She needed to fan herself but restrained the impulse. Or was this reaction because she was in Torr's bedchamber? Either way, she recalled being in bed with him the day before and imagined the wondrous experience happening again.
Torr had imbibed a bit more of the concoction than she had. Was he feeling the effects? She glanced aside and found him watching her, his eyes dark and interested. The potion was working! Giddy excitement beat through her.
He would be her dream husband. She had to set her marriage plan into motion. "Are you certain 'tis all right if I bathe in your chamber?" she asked.
"Aye. The maids are away, and you'll likely be finished before they return. I'll give you your privacy." His offer was selfless, but he seemed hesitant to leave.
"There's no need," she blurted.
He quirked a brow, his eyes growing even more intent.
"I would not run you out of your own chamber. In fact, I'll share this bath with you." She smiled.
"Share?" he growled, his frown severe.
"Why not? You shared your ale with me."
"Ale and a bath are two quite different things, lass."
She shrugged. "'Twill save water."
"We have nay lack of water in Scotland."
Nervousness seized her. How in blazes could she make a gorgeous, experienced, and powerful man like Torr want her, love her? He saw her as naught but a silly girl. But she was more, so much more—his future wife.
"My bath will take all the hot water, and you'll have to wait a long while for another pot of water to heat."
"A cold bath would benefit me greatly at the moment," he muttered.
"Suit yourself, but I love a hot bath." She closed the door, then began unlacing her bodice. Clearly, the potion had made her bold.
His jaw clenching hard, he turned away, strode to the window, then glared back at her. Forcing herself not to grin, she continued disrobing, her skin growing more sensitive and heated with each moment that passed. Goodness, she'd had no idea a few drops of the magical concoction would affect her this way.
He yanked the drapery over the window as if someone outside might see what she was doing.
She hid her smile.
Feeling unsure of herself, she noticed that her hands trembled as she removed each piece of clothing. Because of her overheated skin, she was glad to be rid of them, but she still wondered what he thought of her. Would he find her tempting enough? The day before, he had complimented her but had not lost control and taken her.
Naked, she stepped into the tub of hot water, pretending she was an experienced courtesan. But she wasn't. She was still an innocent.
Sitting and sinking into the heated bliss, she sighed. "Oooh, this feels delightful."
Torr observed her with dark fascination but stood unmoving, still as a statue. He exhaled and tore his gaze away. The sound of his harsh breathing reached her. Was the magical tincture affecting him as it was her? She ached for him. Sharp tingles covered her skin.
She pulled her long hair over one shoulder. "Torr, would you wash my back?"
He turned then, a tortured look in his eyes, his face flushed. "'Tis hot as Hades in here." Glaring at the smoldering fire in the hearth, he removed his doublet. Sweat dotted his brow. He went on to remove his shirt.
