Page 26 of Blood & Roses

“What’s wrong?” I said breathlessly as he pulled back a little, his hand still holding my jaw. His eyes met mine, dark and full of desire and unspoken things.

“The bath,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to my lips as he rose and left for the bathing room. I heard the water shut off and a quiet curse, and then he was back, his arms coming around me again as he pressed one more gentle kiss to my lips.

“As much as I want to explore this,” he murmured, his fingers weaving through my hair at the nape of my neck, “I need to bathe. I won’t lie with you smelling like a horse.”

“Fair,” I said, my heart stuttering a little at the promise of what he wanted as I tried to cool the flames he had ignited in me. “That’s fair.”

He chuckled, kissing me again. “Do you want to go first? We’re already out of hot water. I can go after you.”

“Oh,” I said, my face heating. I hadn’t really been thinking about a bath, but I definitely wanted one before being with him. Before letting him see and smell me. “But won’t you be cold?”

“I’ll survive,” he said with a shrug, pulling me up from the bed and pushing me toward the bathing room. “I have selfish reasons for wantingyouto feel warm and relaxed.”

I gave him a half-hearted glare over my shoulder, and he grinned, still propelling me forward.

He had lit candles in the bathroom, which was far larger than the bathing room in our cottage. And the bath…gods above, the bath was twice the size I was expecting.

“I’ll be right out here,” Rowan said, mouth brushing my cheek as he murmured in my ear. “Take your time.”

He made to close the door, and I stopped him with a hand before my brain caught up to my reckless, daring heart.

“Wait,” I said, catching his hand. He raised that scarred brow, which made my knees go a little weak and steeled my resolve. “The bath is big enough for two.”

Chapter 13

Rowan went wholly still as I took a step back from him, unclasping the cloak and unbuttoning the leather jacket, letting both fall to the floor at my feet.

“Are you—” Rowan sucked in a breath as I peeled my shirt off, nothing but a simple corset covering my breasts. They heaved more than I would have hoped, my mother’s necklace between them drawing his eyes like a moth to a light, but he stood still like a maletransfixed.

“Your turn,” I said, reaching up to unclasp his cloak and work the buttons of his jacket.

He caught my hands, so small in his large, calloused palms. “Isolde,” he said, his voice rougher and deeper than it had been a moment before. “Gods above, you are—” He cleared his throat and shook his head, looking a little dazed. “Are you sure?”

I smiled, moving again to unbutton the jacket and pull it off him, letting it fall to the floor with my own.

“You know me,” I said, trying to keep my tone light and hide the slight shaking of my hands as I unlaced his shirt and made to pull it over his head. “I need to take care of people, and you’ve been riding just as hard as me. Harder if you count yesterday.”

The shirt came over his head, leaving his chest bare in the flickering candlelight, and it was all I could do not to gasp as I took in the firm planes of muscle, taut stomach, and hard pectorals from training with bow and arrow and sword. He had several scars, likely from swordplay or hunting accidents, and I ran my fingers over a white line on his bicep, feeling goosebumps rise in their wake.

Rowan’s hands were on me too, tentative as he ran them down my arms, across my collarbone, and around my waist to the back of the corset where it laced.

“May I?” he asked, tugging gently on the laces. I nodded, turning silently as he lifted my hair over one shoulder and tugged the laces free. He turned me back to face him as I let the corset fall, shimmying it over my hips as I stood bare-breasted before him.

“Fucking gods, Isolde,” he breathed, my name on his lips sending shivers down my arms as he cupped my full breasts. He flicked his thumbs over my nipples, making them peak, then leaned down to press a kiss against my neck. I moaned, and he breathed me in, scraping his teeth over the spot he had just kissed. “You are so fucking beautiful.”

“These next,” I said, my voice shaking with my hands as I reached for the laces of his trousers.

“Isolde,” Rowan said, catching my hands again and pressing a gentle kiss to my lips. “We only go as far asyouwant. You’re in control here.”

“I want this,” I whispered against him, my fingers fumbling so much he had to help me.

He smirked, shucking off the trousers and undershorts until he was completely bare before me. My focus went to his feet and rose up his legs, tracing the lines of firm muscle with my eyes before finding his length.

My mouth dried out a little as I took him in, hard and full before me.

“Your turn,” he breathed, moving to the laces of my trousers and pulling them down my hips slowly. I braced my hands on his shoulders, letting him undress me until there was nothing between us. His eyes devoured me, and he licked his lips as his breaths quickened. “You are a goddess. An enchantress. A witch, Isolde.”

“I’m no witch,” I said quietly, tracing my fingers over his chest, his nipple, and making him suck in a breath. “Just an assassin.”