Bride For A Knight Page 0,75

her standing before him wearing nothing but her near-transparent undershift. And, she hoped, a seductive smile.

A look bold enough to rouse and excite him, tempting him into forgetting the night's horrors and thinking only of the pleasure she wished to give him. But if his eyes narrowed or clouded with disappointment, she'd retrieve her gown and re-don it. Then she'd bathe him as chastely as she'd tended the worthies who'd visited Fairmaiden Castle.

"They are gone," she said, referring to the kitchen lads and their racket. "And you, my lord, shall now be treated to a bath like no other," she added, turning at last. Her pulse quickening at her daring, she eased down the straps of her shift, gently lowering the top piece until her breasts were fully uncovered. Jamie's brows shot upward and his breath snagged in his throat. His reaction seemed to please her for she made no move to cover herself. She simply stood where she was, her shift falling loosely around her hips and her breasts delightfully bared.

And, he saw at once, not just her sweet, rose-tipped breasts. Through the thin cloth of her camise, he could also make out the silky curls of her woman's mound, a tempting triangular shadow just topping her thighs.

"Holy saints." He knew he was staring, but couldn't stop. "Sweet lass, do you ken I can see all of you?"

"To be sure, I know." She looked at him, her chin lifting. "Would I have undressed for your bath if I meant to keep myself covered?"

Jamie hesitated, an unpleasant thought stealing into his mind. Saints, now he was the jealous one.

"Did you bathe your father's friends thusly?" he asked, damning the question, but needing to know.

She shook her head. "Nay, I was e'er fully clothed when seeing to the comforts of Fairmaiden guests."

"I am glad," Jamie admitted, his relief almost a living thing. Humbling, too, for its portent. Truth was, he'd often lain with Gunna of the Glen on a pallet still warmed by another man's rutting. Yet all he'd cared about was taking his ease.

Aveline was different.

He wanted her body, aye. But more than that he wanted her companionship and caring, her wit and intelligence. The way she could make him laugh. Her appreciation for the beauty of the great hills and moors they called their own. The respect she'd displayed for the Old Ones and the ancient ways by bathing naked at a sacred well, garbed in naught but her unbound hair and the silver of the moon.

Her kindness to his father and Hughie Mac touched him, too. As did the softness that came into her eyes when she knew he was missing his brothers. And though he'd ne'er admit it, he loved the way she passed the best tidbits from her supper trencher to Cuillin or whate'er other castle dogs might come nosing up to her for a handout.

Jamie drew a deep breath, astounded by the clutch she already had on him. As if she guessed his thoughts, she glanced at her naked breasts and then back at him, suddenly looking shy. But she recovered as quickly, sending him a bright, dimpling smile.

Stepping closer to the bathing tub, she swirled a finger in the steaming water, then turned away to fill a small earthenware bowl with violet-scented oil, carefully placing the bowl near the hissing, red-glowing charcoal brazier.

"Hot scented oil for after I've bathed you," she told him, moving to the tub again.

"That, and more."

"More?"

"You will see." She drew up a low three-legged stool and placed a small jar of soap and washing cloths onto its seat. "But first, I must see you. Out of your clothes and into the water."

Jamie nodded, but he still wasn't certain he wanted her to see him at all. It was one thing for her to be daring so long as his clothes hid the dangers, and quite something else for her to actually see that danger hanging heavy between his thighs, long, thick, and swaying.

Blessedly, he was still relaxed, but staying that way was proving a ferocious struggle.

Jamie frowned.

Aveline dipped her fingers into the bathwater again, watching him. "You were about to show yourself to me when Morag came abovestairs," she reminded him.

"Sweet lass, this has naught to do with removing my clothes." He raked a hand through his hair. "I am trying not to run hard, is what I'm doing. Think you I can get naked and into that tub, have you touching me intimately, and not wish to touch you