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The way he said that made this sound like a business arrangement, and perhaps that was the appropriate way to think of this. After all, wasn’t that what this was? But it didn’t feel like that at all as I nodded.
He eyed me for several moments, his stare piercing, as if he could see right through me— through what was partially a facade. My heart was pounding so hard, I was sure he could hear it. I didn’t dare look away or let my smile falter, didn’t want to give away how nervous I was.
Then he strode forward, completely at ease with the fact that not a single stitch of clothing covered him. He briefly caught my gaze again as he stepped into the tub and sank into the water, giving me a nice view of a rather firm rear.
His ass truly was extraordinary.
Lord Thorne hummed a sound of pleasure, drawing my gaze down. He’d let his head rest against the rim of the tub. With his eyes closed, I let myself take in the elegant features of his face and the display of his body. It was truly unfair that any being could look as . . . as decadent as my—Nope.Damn it, he was not my anything. I really,reallyneeded to stop with that nonsense.
Refocusing, I glanced around the chamber and spied the soap. “Would you like me to bathe you?”
“It would please me greatly if you would.”
I placed the towel back on the stool.
“And I know it will please you greatly to do so,” he added.
It would, and the fact that he remembered that annoyed me. Also excited me as I went to one of the numerous shelves. I picked up a bar of soap that carried the faint scent of lemongrass. Turning, I saw that his eyes were open to thin slits and both arms lay on the edge of the tub. He watched me closely as I approached him. I could feel this . . . this tension crackling between us, electric and alive. A flutter of unease and . . . and something else started in my chest and moved lower.
“Is the water to your liking?” I knelt on the marble floor behind the tub.
“Very,” he replied, and the flutter moved again at that one word.
I placed the soap on the small metal caddy beside me. Hands lathered, I reached for his arm.
He gave a little jerk when my hands touched him, like he’d done in the shower. Or I did this time. Maybe we both did. I wasn’t sure as he lifted his arm for me and I drew my hands up, hoping he didn’t notice the faint tremor in them.
Silencing my own thoughts was harder than before, but I managed. Like before, I . . . I heard none of his thoughts. There was a good chance I was simply too distracted once more by how hard and smooth his skin was. It was almost like granite. Did all of him—
Nope.
Was not going there.
“Tell me something about yourself,” Lord Thorne said, the roughness of his voice drawing my gaze from his arm. His head was still resting against the rim, eyes closed.
“Like what?” I asked.
“Anything,” he answered. “The silence allows my mind to wander to what your hands will feel like on my dick.”
My hands halted at his elbow for half a heartbeat as a sudden sharp, twisting motion pulsed through me. A little breathless, I resumed tracing the length of his strong arm. “Is that something you wish to prevent your mind from wandering to?”
The corners of his lips tipped up. “Not normally; however, I’ve come to learn that I enjoy you bathing me, and I do not wish to rush it.”
Skin flushing with a heat that now came from within, I slipped my hands over his shoulder and then down one side of his chest. “I’m not sure what to tell you, my lord.”
“Our paths have now crossed three times,” he said, and I mentally corrected him. Four times. Our paths had crossed four times. “Yet, I know little about you. You can start with something easy. Like are you from Archwood?”
“No.” My slippery fingers slid over the stonelike skin of his upper stomach.
“The Midlands at all?”
I considered lying but decided against it as I re-lathered my hands. “I’m from the southern lands.”
“The Lowlands?”
“Close about.” That was somewhat of a lie. Union City existed on the border of the Lowlands and Midlands. I dragged my teeth over my lower lip. “Where are you from?”
“Vytrus.”
