“I know you haven’t. We’re going to continue our conversation in the bath.”
“If you think I’ll allow you to watch me bathe—”
He stopped suddenly and spun around, sliding an arm around her and kissing her hard. She twitched in surprise, but he held her snug and compact against him, one hand clamped around her wrist so firmly that she could feel her pulse throbbing against the cinch of his fingers. He lifted his head and she remained against him, blinking in bewilderment. With a quick grin, he continued to pull her behind him until they reached the bathing room. Alex let go of her and went to the tub, adjusting the gold spigots until the pipes shuddered behind the wall. Hot and cold water came forth in tumbling streams.
Standing with her arms around herself, Lily glanced at her surroundings in wonder. It was positively decadent, outfitted with a marble fireplace and lined with white tiles painted and glazed with brilliant colors. Having seen their like before in Florence, she recognized them as rare Italian tiles more than two centuries old. The built-in tub was the largest she had ever seen, able to accommodate two.
Alex smiled sardonically as he saw her modest posture. He pried her arm away from her breasts. “After parading through Craven’s in nothing more than a few scarves sewn together—”
“It wasn’t as revealing as it seemed. My wig hid a great deal.”
“Not enough.” Forcibly he guided her into the tub. With the dignity of an offended cat, Lily sat down in the rising water. Alex began to strip off his ruined clothes. “There’ll be no more of that,” he said brusquely, sliding her a wary glance.
At first Lily thought he meant her sullen attitude, but then she realized he was referring to her display at Craven’s. The comment annoyed her. She should have expected he would begin issuing commands. She had never accepted anyone’s dictates, not even her parents’. “I’ll parade stark na*ed up and down Fleet Street if I want to.”
He gave her a derisive glance but didn’t reply. Lily reached for one of the cakes of soap piled in a glass bowl on the floor. Industriously she ran the slick soap over her arms and chest and splashed water over her skin. The steam and heat gathering in the room began to relax her, and unconsciously she gave a long sigh. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Alex approach the side of the tub. Realizing he was naked, she made a move to leave the warm water. “No,” she said apprehensively. “I don’t want you to share my bath. I-I’ve had enough of your pawing for one night.”
“Sit down.” Clamping his large hand on her shoulder, he pushed her back into the tub. “Ten minutes ago you were quite enamored of my pawing.”
Her spine stiffened as she felt him step into the water behind her. He sat down, crooking one long leg and stretching the other out beside her. There was a soft exhalation of comfort, and then his arm reached around her, extricating the soap from her hand. Lily stared at his feet and felt the brush of his bent knee against the side of her breast. His soapy hands moved over her body. Mutely she watched as he washed the paint from her breasts, the color dissolving into grayish foam.
Alex sluiced water over Lily’s shoulders, rinsing until her skin was pale and shimmering. He pulled her closer between his thighs, wordlessly urging her back until her weight was settled against the sodden mat of hair on his chest. He rubbed the soap between his fingers and slid them down her body in a slippery trail, until they converged between her thighs in a slick tangle.
It was quiet in the bathing room. There was only the soft swish of water and the sound of their breathing bouncing gently from the tiles. Lily couldn’t help surrendering to the soothing warmth of the bath. She felt the tension leave her spine. Half-closing her eyes, she rested her head on his shoulder while his hands wandered smoothly over her. His face turned, and his lips swept into the wet curve of her neck, the frail edge of her jaw. She leaned more heavily on him and drew in a deep breath of steamy air. Unbidden, her hand crept to his thigh, her fingers flexing into the hard muscle. Underneath the water the rough hair on his body had become soft and velvety.
At the touch of her hand, Alex went still. There was no movement except for the rise and fall of his chest beneath her. Lily squeezed her eyes closed, waiting for the moment when he would push her away and say the interlude was over. But he reached for the soap once more, lathering his hands to a foamy slickness. She felt the lambent touch of his fingers on her breasts, circling like dancing butterflies, smoothing over the tiny, hardening tips. Lifting herself higher into the teasing caress, she gave a pleasured murmur.
His hands cupped water over her, pouring liquid warmth on her breasts, leaving her ni**les taut and rosy. There was another ritual with the soap as he moved it back and forth between his palms, and then he set it aside. His lubricated palms glided in circles on her stomach, pausing as one fingertip dipped curiously into the neat hollow of her navel. Lily began to breathe in irregular gasps, feeling as if she were floating in a pool of fire. Her body tensed in yearning. Relentlessly his legs hooked over her ankles and eased them wider. Sliding his hand lower, he stroked the tense line of her abdomen…and lower still…and his fingers trailed through the thatch of sodden curls, saturating them with white foam. Lily started and clutched his wrist, trying to pull him away. “I think you should stop,” she said breathlessly, and wet her lips. “I think—”
“Why don’t you try not thinking?” he whispered against her ear, sliding his middle finger deep inside her. The sweetness of his touch spread through her, quickly condensing into heavy, aching urgency. His supple stroke went deeper, and her body tightened to draw in more of the tantalizing pressure. As the water sloshed rhythmically in the tub, she realized what was happening, and she said his name weakly. He murmured to her, telling her to forget everything, to concentrate only on this…and he kept her there, cradled by the water and his body, never ceasing the exquisite manipulation, drawing pleasure from her as if he could drink it in with his fingertips. Patiently he nudged her over the edge of feeling into a cl**ax of exquisite, infinite relief. Her muffled cry echoed from the tiles, while her glistening body arched against his restraining arms. When the pleasure ebbed, he turned her until she was draped over him, and his mouth took hers in a drugging kiss.
“You’re a beautiful woman, Wilhemina Lawson,” he said huskily, holding her head in his wet hands. His gray eyes stared into her dark, astonished ones. “And you’re going to stay the night with me.”
Had she the advantage of clothes, weapons, or even a spark of energy, Lily might have found a way to leave. But she allowed him to dry her with a thick, soft towel, and carry her to a bedroom with a luminous ceiling that looked like sky and clouds. Alex extinguished the lamps and pulled her into bed beside him. They both knew that she would take the five thousand from him, and discuss the terms of the arrangement tomorrow. The tacit agreement gave Lily a trapped, sordid feeling. The exchange of money for the use of her body could not be considered anything other than what it was. But it also brought a certain measure of peace. She would pay Giuseppe and rehire the detective to find her daughter. Perhaps the nightmare of the past two years would be over soon.
His arm curved around her, pulling her against his body. It wasn’t long before his breath rifled through her hair in the slow cadence of sleep. But tired as she was, Lily found it difficult to sleep. She had the troubled awareness that in spite of her efforts to avoid this, her life had turned down a path she had never wanted to travel…and there was no going back.
Lily was profoundly puzzled by the man sleeping beside her. She had accused him of brutality, but in spite of his many opportunities to hurt her, he had treated her with gentleness. In fact, he had deliberately sought to give her pleasure. She had thought of him as a coldhearted man, but the truth was that he possessed unusual depth of feeling. Others might consider him as having a restrained and moderate nature, but Lily knew that she alone could provoke him into an awe-inspiring temper. Privately she admitted that she was glad of it, that something in her found satisfaction in affecting him so deeply. He’d been furious that so many men had seen her in the Eve costume. The thought brought a slight smile to her face. The smile disappeared as she reflected that it wasn’t like her to take pleasure in a man’s possessiveness. Perturbed, she tried to move away, but he snuggled closer with a sleepy grunt and threw an arm over her. Wryly she settled back against him and closed her eyes, relaxing into the sheltering warmth of his body.
Alex was awakened by the annoying twitch and kick of Lily’s legs. Grumbling, he sat up in the darkness, rubbing his eyes. “What’s the matter?” he muttered, yawning deeply. His head whipped around as he heard a low, keening cry beside him. “Lily? Dammit, what…” He bent over her, while she writhed against the pillow. Her body twisted, her small fists knotting around handfuls of the bedclothes. Incoherent words fell from her lips in between her agitated gasps.
“Lily.” Tenderly he swept the hair back from her forehead. “Shhh. You’re dreaming. It’s just a nightmare.”
“No—”
“Wake up, sweetheart.” He would have continued to speak to her, but then he heard the name she had whispered during her sleepwalking at Raiford Park. He’d thought it was Nick, but her voice was more distinct now. It dawned on him that she was repeating a woman’s name.
“Nicole…no…no…” She wept with dry sobs, her hands reaching out blindly, twitching against the hard muscle of his chest. She was shaking with fear, or perhaps misery.
Alex stared down at her with a mixture of compassion and wild curiosity. Nicole. He’d never heard the name from any of the Lawsons. It had to be part of Lily’s mysterious past. Stroking her hair, he lowered his lips to her forehead. “Lily, wake up. Easy. You’re all right.”
She jerked against him, her breath stopping as if someone had thrown her to the ground. Alex gathered her close, wrapping her in his arms. Suddenly she burst into tears. Whatever he had expected, it was not this, the pitiful sobbing that expressed a grief too deep to put into words. He froze in amazement. “Lily.” He tried to soothe her, running his hands over her trembling body. Her weeping was oddly chilling. He’d never heard such a broken, unearthly sound. He would give anything, promise the sun and moon, anything to make her stop. “Lily,” he repeated desperately. “For God’s sake, don’t cry like that.”
It was a long time before she quieted, nuzzling her wet face against his chest. Alex wanted to talk then, wring explanations from her. But she gave an exhausted sigh and fell asleep with unnatural suddenness, as if the tears had drained every last bit of strength. Dumbfounded, he stared down at the bundle in his arms. “Who is Nicole?” he whispered, though he knew she couldn’t hear. “What did she do to you?”
Her small head rested heavily in the crook of his arm. Stroking her dark hair, he felt his own tension begin to recede. But it was replaced by something far more disturbing. He was amazed by the protectiveness he felt. He wanted to take care of her, this spirited woman who had made it clear that she didn’t want or need anyone’s help. He knew she couldn’t be trusted with his heart, but somewhere along the way he had already given it to her. She had turned his life upside down. She had changed everything.
He loved her. The simple truth was astonishing, but undeniable. Fervently he pressed his lips into her hair, his body rife with uncontained, anxious joy. He wanted her bound to him with words and promises, with everything he had that might hold her. In time she might come to care for him—it was a risk worth taking. It would be wise to find out more about her, delve into her past until she was less of an enigma. But he wasn’t wise, he was in love, and he wanted her as she was. He’d been careful and responsible all his life. For once he would cast aside logic, and do as his heart prompted.
Lily stretched and shivered comfortably. Blinking her eyes open, she saw a delicate blue and white ceiling illuminated by the morning light. Slowly she turned her head and found Alex’s translucent eyes trained on her. His tawny shoulders rose above her as he prevented her from pulling the sheet over her exposed breasts. He said good morning with a lazy grin, and asked how she had slept.
“Quite well,” Lily said warily. Last night she’d had strange, troubled dreams. She wondered if she had disturbed him in her sleep—she wondered why there were no questions and suspicious glances.
“I was afraid you’d slip away before I woke,” Alex said.
Guiltily she averted her gaze, recalling her stealthy departure of yesterday morning. “I don’t have anything to wear,” she mumbled.
“Of course.” Deliberately he inched the sheet downward. “Keeping you without clothes has definite advantages.”
Uncertain of his playful mood, Lily tried to retain the sheet. “I would appreciate it if you would send someone to my terrace for a gown and some things…my maid Annie will know what to collect…and…” Her dignified manner collapsed as he stripped away the white linen and pressed her thighs open. “Alex,” she said with a faint protest.
His hands played lightly over her body. “I like to hear you say my name.”
“You can’t mean to,” she said breathlessly. “Not again.”
“Why not?”
“It must be unhealthy, or some such thing—”
“Very,” he said, cupping his hands over her delicate breasts. “Addles the brain.”
“Does it really—” she began in worry, and then saw that he was teasing her. “Alex!”
His warm, smiling mouth lowered to her breasts. Lily felt him wedged intimately high against her thigh. Her senses clamored in response, and she made no protest as he pushed her arms and legs wide and mounted her. He kissed her lips and pressed forward, easing deep inside her, moving with luxurious ease. Hesitantly she flattened her hands on his back, her palms resting on the flexing of muscle beneath the taut skin. She drew her legs up higher, clasping his h*ps between her knees, and he plunged sharply in cl**ax, his breath striking the side of her neck in a single exhalation. His body tensed and shuddered, and then he relaxed with a sigh.
Lily was the first to break the languid silence. She raised herself to a sitting position, yanking at a corner of the sheet and pulling it up to her neck. “There are things we must talk about right away,” she said, making an effort to sound brisk. She cleared her throat. “I may as well be blunt.”
“For a change,” he murmured, his eyes glinting with a mocking smile. He couldn’t recall a single conversation when she hadn’t been blunt with him.