naked in front of him. “No, I’m fine, really. I don’t want to bathe.”
He chuckled. “You clearly haven’t looked in a mirror. You’re so splashed with mud, it’s hard to tell what’s freckle and what’s dirt.”
He took one of the washcloths, dipped it in the steaming water, and wrung it out. Emmy’s heart began to pound as he stepped up in front of her, caught her chin, and started to wipe her face clean.
She stilled, too stunned to do anything, as the warm cloth laved her cheeks, her temple, the sides of her nose. His eyes never met hers. He seemed engrossed in the task, as if he were her servant. It was a ridiculously erotic experience. The cotton was thin, and she could feel his fingers through the fabric as he wiped it across her lips. Blood pounded in her ears.
“Close your eyes.” He passed the cloth gently over her closed eyelids and down the bridge of her nose.
“If you rub harder, you might remove some of those cursed freckles,” she joked weakly.
He stilled, then resumed stroking. “I like your freckles.” He applied slight pressure to her chin and tilted her jaw to expose the side of her neck.
Emmy suppressed a shiver as the cloth slipped over the sensitive skin behind her ear and then slid down to her collarbone. She was so aware of him, of the faint warm disturbance in the air as he moved about her. Each tiny hair on her body prickled, and she almost groaned when he lifted the now-cool cloth from her skin and stepped back.
“Better,” he said gruffly.
He turned his back on her, and Emmy closed her eyes. Everything the man did seemed designed to lower her defenses, to turn her into mush. Staying near him all night was going to be torture.
The low hum of conversation filtered up through the floor from the taproom below, mingling with the crackle of the fire in the grate.
“Well, if you’re not going to use the water, I will,” he said.
Emmy opened her eyes in shock. Before she knew what he was about, he reached his arms over his head, grasped his shirt between his shoulder blades, and pulled the material over his head. The maneuver revealed the tawny skin of his back and a pair of deliciously muscular shoulders.
Her mouth went dry. He turned, utterly unself-conscious, and provided her with a front view that was even better than the back. The shirt bunched over his forearms and gathered at his wrists as he lifted each one and flicked the button to release the cuff. His biceps and forearms rippled in the candlelight, and her avid gaze roamed over the expanse of pectoral muscles and an abdomen as ridged and troughed as a furrowed field.
Good lord, he really was magnificent. She’d known he was muscular, had felt him in the darkness at the Tricorn, but she hadn’t imagined how incredible he’d look in candlelight. His nipples, like small bronze disks, were hard and pebbled from the cold.
He threw the shirt aside and picked up a fresh linen cloth, and she must have made a strangled noise, because he glanced over and lifted his brows in a questioning lilt.
“What?” he said. “Don’t tell me you’re shy. Not after last night.”
Her tongue felt like leather in her mouth, but she tried to think of something flippant and sophisticated to say. “I’ve never seen anyone remove a shirt in such a manner,” she managed.
“Seen lots of men removing their shirts, have you?”
She narrowed her eyes at his slightly sarcastic tone. “I haven’t seen any, as a matter of fact. Not even my brother.”
A spark of amusement kindled in his expression. “You wear masculine clothes for your thieving.” He tilted his head in challenge. “How do you do it?”
The blanket slipped from her shoulders as she stood. “Like this.” She crossed her arms in front of her at the waist and mimed lifting her chemise up and off, over her head, uncrossing her arms as she did so.
He shrugged. “Women’s shoulders must be different. I’d dislocate something if I did it that way.” His lips twitched in a wicked smile. “In fact, I don’t believe it can be done. Show me.”
Emmy laughed. “Oh no. I’m not falling for that. You’re just trying to get me naked.”
His expression changed from playful to intent in a heartbeat.
“I can’t deny it,” he said softly. “I meant what I said back in the woods. Last night was good, but I never got to