It was, she realized with chagrin, a good thing if she was to be his mistress.
Still, she was stunned by her own physical reaction to the sight of his perfect form.
He was a duke. And he was the man who had ruined her family. She should not be watching him as if he was some great prize to be won.
Ladies were the prizes, after all.
Gentlemen were the ones who were supposed to be in pursuit.
But suddenly, with the proposition that she was about to have to make, she felt he was a prize to be won indeed. And she was going to pursue him until she’d claimed her trophy.
Yes, she was eventually going to be with him, naked. So why not grow accustomed to him right now?
But it had felt wrong, watching him without his permission, without him knowing that she was there. And she had stepped back into the shadow, unable to draw breath, terrified that he would take note of her.
And then, of course, he had.
He’d slipped into the bath, let out a sigh that had sent shivers down her spine, and then demanded to know who the devil was there.
As she stood gazing upon him as he lingered in the bath at her behest, she felt quite mercenary, for she had made clear that he was not to get out.
After all, what could he do to her if he was in the bath?
“You are studying me with very curious eyes,” he said.
“I have never seen a naked man before,” she blurted.
“And you like what you see?” he queried without mockery.
“Yes,” she said honestly.
There was no point in lying to him. No, theirs would have to be a relationship of complete honesty if he was going to help her, if he was going to train her to be successful in the demimondaine.
Lies would not serve her with him.
There had been too many lies in her opinion, over the years.
Only honesty would do. Brutal, cold honesty. No more dreaming, no more foolishness, no more imagining some grand, beautiful life. Shewouldhave a grand life, but it would be of her own making. She would not wait to rely on someone to save her.
“I am developing quite a crick in my neck. Will you allow me out of the bath now, lady...”
“Lady Catherine,” she allowed.
“Does anyone ever call you Cat?” he asked.
She tensed. “No,” she replied, “they don’t.”
“Well, you have the instincts and stealth of a cat since you were able to get into my rooms unseen. And if you are to be this new person, perhaps I may call you Cat.”
“If you insist,” she said.
“Then again…” His mouth curved ever so slightly before he drawled, “Catherine, of course, is a marvelous name for a courtesan. Makes one think of Catherine the Great and all her abilities and her passion for life. It also makes one think of a towering goddess. Are you a towering goddess, Cat?” he asked.
“Not yet,” she replied, refusing to be daunted.
His dark brows rose at that. “Well said,” he returned as he placed his hands on the side of his tub and stood.
Water sluiced down his perfect frame and she wanted to take a step back, very nearly overwhelmed by all his male magnificence. She forced herself to remain where she was.