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The floor struck her instead. Luckily she woke mid-tumble, landing on her knees with a dull thud, her hands still twisted in the sheets.
Only a dream.
If it was a dream, why did she hear water? And why was there light under the dressing-room door?
She shook off the sheets and very quietly opened the door.
Definitely not a dream.
She’d dreamed of Edge naked these past weeks, but not in the bath. This image was likely to join the rest of those tormenting her since that night in Cairo.
One of the wonderful changes Lucas had made to Sinclair House was three very large baths in the separate suite of rooms meant for each sibling. They were connected via an ingenious apparatus of pipes to cisterns of water heated by a great fireplace in the attics that also served to heat the servants’ quarters. It was decadent and utterly marvellous, though a trifle large. Right now it did not appear so big—Edge took up quite a bit of the generous structure.
He was wreathed in steam, leaning back against the raised rim with his eyes closed, his damp arms draped along the sides. His face was flushed and damp, opal water droplets shimmering along his shoulders, pooling in the hollows above his collarbone and speared in the straight dark hair that fanned across his torso and disappeared into the water. It was too dark to see beneath the surface, but her imagination was recruiting the all-too-brief memories of their encounters and her mind happily imagined following that arrow of hair down into the steaming water.
She forced her gaze to his face. He looked tired, the lines beside his mouth even deeper than she remembered, but otherwise he looked unharmed, chasing away the lingering fear of the portent of her dream. The fist of worry relaxed, but anger tightened its hold instead. Not even the sight of his beautiful body and the answering heat that shot through her could counter it. No, it made it worse. A hundred times worse.
There was an ewer of water on a side table and she tested it. Cold. Good.
She barely managed to pour half its contents on to her nemesis when he was on his feet and out of the bath. Prudently she stepped back, holding the ewer out like a weapon as water poured off his body on to the carpet. He looked enormous, not that different from the beast rising out of the Nile in her dream. She took another step back.
‘What the devil... Sam!’
‘I could say the same... Edge.’
‘This is one hell of a welcome.’
‘It isn’t a welcome, you poltroon. This is one hundredth of what I would like to do to you. How dare you disappear like that and then sneak in here like a thief without a word to me that you have returned. How dare you!’
Her voice was shaking and she clamped her mouth shut. She hadn’t meant to show her fear, but it was already too late. The fury on his face gave way to concern and then to consternation. He took a towel to wrap about his waist, but it did not help in the least. Her mind clung to the image of gold and bronze firelight shimmering along every muscle, sinew, hollow and length, heating her with the need to touch, to bring him close to her. She knew that image would sink deep into her mind, filter into her dreams. She wanted with equal fervour to touch him and sketch him.
‘Sam, I’m sorry...’ he said as he secured the linen, reminding her she was angry. No—furious.
‘Don’t bother apologising because I shan’t forgive you. You abandoned me, Edge. As if I was nothing. I learned not to expect anything from my father and mother and certainly not from Ricki, but apparently I am still a fool since I expected some basic respect from you.’
‘Sam, listen...’
‘No! Why should I? You couldn’t even be bothered to send me more than two useless notes. Off to Cumbria. E. Do the postal services charge by the letter now? You should be grateful this was only cold water because believe me, for the first time I can understand the meaning of the phrase heaping hot coals on someone’s head.’
‘Sam...’
She set down the ewer with dignity and stalked back into her bedroom.
‘Yinaal abuk wa abu abuk!’ The curse rose into a squeak as Edge hauled her off her feet and deposited her in the water.
‘You can curse me and my sire just as well from here. Stop splashing about; you are wasting all this wonderfully hot water. This is almost as good as a hamam. Move over, I require more room than you.’
‘Don’t you dare!’
‘I’m losing counts of all the dares you are tossing at me, Sam. God, that is good...’ He sank into the water, closing his eyes again and she scooted on to her knees to avoid his legs, considering her options.
‘Why don’t you take off your shift and enjoy this luxury, Sam? Or you could keep it on; I like the way it...’ His voice faded, his hand settling on her thigh under the water. ‘Come here, Sam.’
