Page 147 of Tamed By Her Touch

The words emerged before he could stop them. Not “I could make one.” Or, “I would be happy to make one for you.” Just an agreement that he would do it, no matter what.

As though there would be a future after Titus Four for them. As though she would someday stand in his bathing room and reach for a towel he had warmed specifically for her.

Kaelus turned away before she could see the expression on his face.

He dried her gently, patting the water from her skin rather than rubbing. When he reached her hair, he found another soft towel and carefully squeezed the damp ends of her curls.

Clair smiled faintly.

“Aw, you’re fussing over me.”

“I am not,” Kaelus denied instantly.

“Yes you are, sugar. You’re definitely fussing.”

“You require drying,” he pointed out.

She gave him an amused smile.

“Uh-huh.”

Kaelus ignored her and continued what he was doing.

When she was dry, he carried her back into the sleeping chamber despite her weak protest that she possessed functioning legs. He sat her on the edge of the bed and found the nightgown she had worn the previous evening folded neatly among her belongings.

The sight of it brought an immediate rush of memory. Clair lying beside him…Clair touching herself for him…Clair watching him do the same. In his mind’s eye, he saw her flushed face…could hear her soft cries and smell her scent.

Kaelus shut those thoughts down brutally. No. They couldn’t do that again. They were getting too close.

He helped her into the nightgown instead.

The task was unexpectedly intimate despite its innocence. He gathered the fabric and slipped it over her head, then carefully guided her arms through the openings. Her curls caught beneath the neckline, and he gently freed them, arranging the curly spirals around her shoulders.

Clair let him dress her and said nothing—she only looked up at him. For one dangerous moment, neither of them spoke. She looked soft and sleepy and beautiful.

My wife, Kaelus thought. No. His pretend wife. The distinction felt like a wound in his heart made by a dull knife.

Kaelus pulled the covers back.

“Bed time.”

Clair gave him an amused look.

“Yes, Doctor Kaelus.”

She climbed beneath the blankets and settled onto her side.

Kaelus stood beside the bed, hesitating. He could sleep on the floor, he told himself—he probably should. After everything that happened tonight, distance would be the wisest choice.

But Clair looked at the empty space beside her. Then she looked at him.

“Are you coming to bed?”

It was such a simple question…and such a dangerous one.

“Yes,” Kaelus heard himself saying before he even thought.

He stripped down to his undergarments, deliberately facing away from her, then slid beneath the covers.