Page 80 of When Roses Burn

“You sound terrified by the possibility.”

“I… I… I’m not.”

He didn’t speak for a minute before he waved a hand at the water. “The pants will stay on. Get in, Briar.”

Tired of fighting him and desperate for a bath and bed, I mustered all the dignity I could as I rose on quaking legs. I climbed the two steps up to the tub, released my blanket, and stepped over the edge.

Knox clasped my arm when I teetered. I hated that I needed his help, but if he hadn’t stopped me, I would have face-planted into the tub. It would be awful if I drowned while he was here, considering that’s what I’d hoped to avoid.

With his help guiding me, I sank into the bubbling water and sighed blissfully. The warmth of it eased my tense muscles.

Holding my breath, I sank beneath the surface and stayed there for a minute before rising again. When I did so, Knox settled on the tub behind me.

I sank lower in the tub and crossed my arms over my breasts when they started to float. He’d seen them before, but they didn’t need to be on full display. I closed my eyes as I let the water and herbs work their magic on my sore body.

When fingers wrapped around my arm, I jumped at Knox’s touch and tried to jerk it away, but while his touch was tender, it was also firm. I kept my other arm over my breasts.

“Easy,” he murmured.

My arm remained tensed in his grasp, but when he started kneading my knotted muscles, I relaxed a little. I shouldn’t let him touch me; I didn’t want it.

But as I told myself this, I couldn’t deny I did want it. Not only that, but I enjoyed it. I didn’t like this man; he was hateful, cruel, and awful, but his touch was familiar and missed… so badly missed.

And loved.

I closed my eyes to keep my tears from falling; water still trickled down my cheeks, but he’d scent the difference. His hands were different from what I remembered, larger and rougher. Thick callouses marred his palms; he’d had calluses before, but they were smaller then.

They also weren’t as tender as I remembered. He wasn’t rough or unkind, but love didn’t radiate from his touch like it always had before.

He worked his way up my arm, massaging gently until he got to my shoulders. I contemplated pulling away, but it felt too good, and it had been years since anyone touched me with kindness. Even if this contact was strangely impersonal, my long-denied soul soaked it up.

He was once everything to me, and he felt like a stranger as he nudged me forward. Unable to resist his guidance, I bent forward a little. His hands moved down my back, tracing my spine before massaging the knots in my lower back. I moaned low when his hands magically worked out the twisted muscles.

He slid over my shoulders to my other arm to work his magic there; as he moved, I sensed a change in his touch. It didn’t become more loving, but desire flared as his hands slowed and his fingertips brushed the underside of my breast. I should jerk away; I didn’t.

I’d hoped to never feel desire again after my Needing, but it stirred low in my belly before spreading to my core. The ache that had finally died away between my thighs surged back to life.

I bit my bottom lip to keep from moaning as I grappled to keep my breathing even, but it was impossible with his large hands on me. I’d yearned for this man… or at least the one he used to be… for ten years.

I could never have that man again, but I couldn’t shut off my emotions.

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

Knox

I hadn’t meant to do anything other than care for her, but once I started touching her, I couldn’t stop. Not only had she withstood her Needing in a way I’d never believed possible, but she was different from what I’d expected after her betrayal.

I’d expected to get the truth from her during her Needing. Instead, I’d witnessed the impossible and was now more confused about everything.

“Are you looking for the real truth… or the one you already believe?”

Bertie’s words played through my mind as I tried to ascertain the answer. Maybe the truth I’d believed for so long was wrong, but that meant I’d have to find the real truth. I didn’t know how to do that or if I would believe it when I did.

What I did know was that I should pull my hands away. Instead, I skimmed my fingers over her spine. She shivered, and her head fell forward. Her breath hitched, and her beautiful red lips parted.

She smelled of the herbs, but beneath those herbs, her natural strawberry aroma increased in the air. Unable to resist, I leaned forward and inhaled that intoxicating scent deep into me.

My lips nearly grazed the tender flesh of her neck, just above where I’d left my mark on her. I trailed my hand down her throat, tracing its delicate contours. She was so fragile, so delicate, and at one time, she was mine.