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The words died on her lips as she stared at her husband rising out of the round wooden tub before the hearth, naked, and water running in rivulets along every muscle and curve of his body.

Chapter 15

Never had Sorrell seen such a finely-toned muscled body. It was as though every inch of him had been chiseled to perfection… even his face.

She stared, scrunched her eyes shut, then opened them again, not sure if she was seeing clearly. His beard was gone and his long hair cut to fall just above his shoulders. She had thought he had fine features upon meeting him, but he was far more handsome, his features far more defined, without the beard. So much so that her breath caught for a moment.

All traces of John were gone. This man was now her husband.

Her breath caught again when her eyes drifted—who was she fooling—her eyes didn’t drift, they shot to his manhood. Her first thought was how had it ever fit inside her? The immediate thought that followed was… he was aroused.

“I was thinking about you,” he said, it being all too obvious at what she was thinking.

That brought her eyes up to meet his.

Why? Why? Why did she have to grow damp? Her annoyance reminded her of the reason she had entered the room in a rush and was grateful it took her thoughts elsewhere. “What right have you to invade my parents’ bedchamber?”

“I meant no disrespect to your parents, but we needed a more private place to talk. Your room is much too close to your sisters’ rooms to have any true privacy.”

Sorrell saw that he had had the room cleaned. Not a spot of dust lingered on the furniture or the floor, several candles were lit around the room, and the bedding had been made fresh.

“I also wanted to be far from the noise of the celebration.”

So he wished to avoid the celebration as much as she did. She almost smiled, catching a glimpse of John in Ruddock, and her annoyance settled some.

“You’ll catch a chill. Dry yourself,” Sorrell ordered in her usual direct manner.

Ruddock picked up one of the towels off the stool beside the tub and held it out to Sorrell. “Dry me?”

Sorrell didn’t have to think about it, her response came quick. “You don’t need my help.”

“I didn’t say I needed it. I prefer it.”

She was tempted, but uncertain of what to do.

“Too fearful to come near me, Sorrell?” he challenged.

“I wisely keep my distance from strangers.”

“I can easily remind you that we’re far from strangers.” He took a step toward her and stopped when she took a hasty step back.

“We should talk,” she said.

Ruddock wanted to roar out his frustration. He was tired of talking. He wanted to take his wife in his arms and make love to her, preferably all night. But she deserved some answers.

He dried himself quickly and tossed the towel aside, leaving some parts of himself still glistening with bath water and went to the sideboard and filled two goblets with wine from the tall decanter and walked over to her.

“You should put something on,” she said as he approached.

“No. I’m going to remain naked since when we’re finished talking, I’m going to strip you of your clothes, carry you to the bed and make certain you have a proper, possibly not so proper, wedding night.” He handed her one of the goblets.

Sorrell took it from him, a slight tremor to her hand. The tremor wasn’t from fear or him being naked. She trembled at the thought of making love with him. He was different from John, more so now with his beard gone and his hair shorter, making him more a stranger to her. And how did she make love with a stranger? But how did she deny her husband? Or herself, since desire continued to stir in her.

A knock sounded at the door.

“Do you need anything, Lord Ruddock?” a servant asked.

“Enter and remove the tub,” Ruddock ordered.

The door swung open and when Sorrell saw that her husband intended to remain naked in front of the servants, she jumped in front of him, her back keeping his private parts private.

Ruddock liked that his wife intended to keep anyone from seeing him naked. He hoped it was because she wanted to keep him all to herself, though he figured it was more out of embarrassment that she shielded him from anyone seeing his manhood.

He warned himself to behave with her being so close, but how could he not take advantage of the situation. He slipped his arm around her waist and with a slight yank had her locked back against him.

Sorrell caught her gasp before it could slip from her mouth, though she wished he could hear the silent oath she let loose in her head.

“I’ve missed you, wife,” he whispered softly.


Tags: Donna Fletcher Mcardle Sisters of Courage Romance