Page 35 of Warrior’s Lady

Chapter Ten

Pinpricks of sensation coursed over Rhiannon's flesh, wringing a gasp from her lips. She was too cold and too hot all in the same moment. She writhed in the bathwater, seeking freedom from the torture she now endured, only to be pressed back down into the copper tub. More buckets of steaming water joined the others. And slowly, Rhiannon felt the chill that had permeated her bones melt away.

Relaxed now, she closed her eyes and leaned back into the side of the tub, allowing the hot water to flow all around her, turning her flesh a reddish-pink. Had she ever been that cold in her life? She shivered just thinking about it.

The soft voices that had filled the room vanished. The door to the bedchamber closed. Silence settled over the room. And suddenly she became aware of another presence beside her.

She snapped her eyes open. Camden sat in a tub next to hers. His torso was bare, and had turned the same reddish-pink as her own flesh. Her eyes widened, and she stared at him. She'd never seen a naked male before. She swallowed and drew a shaky breath as her gaze met his. Wild heat flooded her cheeks at her unusually bold appraisal.

But hers was not the only exploration. His gaze lingered on the rise of her breasts just above the surface of the water. A stirring low in her belly brought a new wave of heat to her cheeks. "Why did they bring me here instead of the chamber across the hall?"

"I told them to." His gaze rose to her face and he offered her a reckless smile. "You are an excellent horsewoman."

"Thank you," she replied, dipping deeper beneath the water.

"It takes great skill to handle a horse the way you did back in the forest." He feigned a sigh. "'Tis a blow to my manliness to admit I was rescued by a female."

"How is your arm?" she asked, suddenly aware of a subtle difference in their banter. He played with her. And his underlying sense of suspicion had vanished.

"Bertie wasted no time in sewing the wound." He shifted in the water, hanging his bandaged arm over the side of the tub, closing the distance between them. "I shall live for other adventures." The words were spoken with silken sensuality. His gaze moved slowly across her shoulders, her breasts, and further below the surface of the water.

"As will your pride, I am sure." She found herself staring at him, unable to look away from those light blue eyes. She could feel her heart beating harder, her skin warming as the blood ran faster in her veins.

"In time, perhaps."

She could see the pulse drumming in his temple and watched as the feathery curve of his lashes came down to hide the blue of his eyes. She caught his scent — musk and mint — and inhaled deeply, committing the fragrance to memory. Rhiannon wished she could think of something to say that would bring an end to the tension building between them.

His gaze moved to her neck, tracing the curve of her flesh from her shoulder to her ear. She trembled, willed herself to breath slowly. How did he do it? All he had to do was look at her and she went weak in the knees. Thank goodness she was sitting down.

"Lord Lockhart," she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Camden."

She drew a deep breath and tried again, knowing the question she had to ask. "Camden, who was that man?"

The warmth in his eyes faded. "An assassin."

"Why was he after us?"

"I suppose it had something to do with us being at the cottage."

The explanation seemed reasonable, yet she could hear the tension in his words. She knew it was the same assassin as before. But who exactly were they after, her or Violet?

"I'm getting out of the bath," he warned. "Close your eyes or look your fill." The water rippled.

Rhiannon squeezed her eyes shut, though her cheeks heated once more at the image of his naked body that appeared in her mind. She listened as he stepped out of the bath. The sound of shuffling cloth followed before he said, "You can open your eyes."

As if on command, her eyes drifted open, immediately seeking him out. He stood before her, his upper body bare, his lower body concealed by a soft linen towel. Warmth spread through her at the sight.

He held a towel out to her. "You want some help?"

The heat turned to a slow flame at the suggestion. "That would leave me unfairly exposed," she said boldly, with a hint of huskiness in her voice.

Just then, a knock sounded on the door. "Enter," Camden called.

Mistress Faulkner hustled in.

"Would you allow Magdeline to assist you?" He held the towel out to Mistress Faulkner. The woman accepted the cloth with a frown.